Renascentia
by tinypurplefishes
Summary: The newly reborn Laurel tasks herself with saving her most beloved characters from otherwise dismal fates. Despite being thrown headfirst into a world of magic, by way of reincarnation and universe-traversing, Laurel's doing pretty OK. New chapter every Friday.
1. Prologue: Submersam

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Prologue: Submersam [Drowning]**

After the pain had left her, she could only feel a sense of calmness. Icy water surrounded her completely, enveloping her with supressing force. The girl was floating, no clear destination. Her eyes were closed, not in pain but in relief. Eyelashes brushed softly against pale cheeks, not moving a whisper.

She could not remember what had happened, what came before now to lead to her icy grave. And it was. Her grave, that is. The girl knew it for a certainty. Though she could hear the dull ambience of the ocean and feel the icy water shocking her skin, the girl felt still. She thought, that even if she were on a warm, sunny beach, her skin would remain as pale and cold as stone. As lifeless.

Laurel, the girl thought abruptly. That was her name. The girl, Laurel, remembered lazy days sitting outside in the sunlight, grass between her toes and a hand in hers. She remembered colder, winter days with cosy blankets and a cosier boy. The boy. With indifference she recalled that he had been there with her, before the water. Oh, he had pushed her, hadn't he? That was peculiar. Laurel could not recall him ever seeming less than completely enamoured with her.

But the girl could not find it within herself to care. She observed that it was hard to care when you were dead. It was hard to do anything, mind submersed in a dull acceptance and limbs locked in rigid shapes.

So, Laurel continued. This wouldn't be a bad existence, she thought, a bit boring and almost entirely unremarkable, but she could live with floating. Or, she guessed she couldn't _live_ with it, but she could certainly bear it.

Water tumbled around her, brushing hair back and forward and back and forward. Time may be an illusion, but Laurel did not feel it passing. It could have been days or weeks, probably seconds. The icy cold spread. Laurel could almost feel it tangibly reach her heart. The ghost of her once beating heart quickened, she could hear its pretend thump in her head.

The dullness was fading, Laurel's mind growing sharper. She was beginning to panic. And just as her ghost heart began to reach an impossible speed, it stopped.


	2. Mater

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter One: Mater [Mother]**

Laurel no longer felt cold. She was now surrounded by warmth, and as the cold sunk into her heart, so did the warmth. Her icy heart now melted, she could feel a small beating in her chest. Though she was still unable to open her eyes, or hear anything that was not dulled by her unknown surrounding, she felt safe. Comforted.

Like before, in the water, Laurel could not perceive time. Though now this fact did not startle her, or cause existential crises. It was this feeling of safeness that enveloped her, and promised only good things.

After some time in that stasis, the muffled sounds external to Laurel took shape. She could tell that they were voices. Laurel did not know if she was in some sort of coma after her accident, and she could hear the people talking around her, or if these muted voices were a figment of her imagination. But they did comfort her, causing some primal part of her brain to soften and coo back internally.

Laurel even recognised one of the voices, the one that she had heard most often. It was a woman, Laurel was sure. Even almost inaudible to her, the soft and feminine tone was clear. Whenever she heard this voice, her heart rose in her chest and she moved softly in reply, feet sometimes brushing against some soft structure in front of her.

Laurel stirred one day to find that she could open her eyes. There was not much to see, but there was sometimes a dull red glow from her surrounding, like the sun shining on closed eyes. Sometimes faint shadows played across the red wall, dancing around with no determinable shape.

She was sure that this was heaven. Not fluffy clouds and harp-playing angels, but a warm feeling of love and comfort, a dull red glow and dancing shadows. An eternity of this was welcomed by Laurel.

But it was not to be an eternity for Laurel. After countless moments in this self-described heaven, Laurel felt a pressure around her. There had been a soft pressure around her for some time, but the walls around her were squeezing tighter, firmer. Laurel could feel the walls pulsing against her skin, slowly easing her down. To where, she did not know.

 **31 August 1978. 6:31pm**

Everything was clear, the voices Laurel had heard were amplified. The shock from comforting warmth to unpleasant coldness was instant, causing a yell from Laurel. She was surprised when she could hear her voice squalling, it seemed she had regained her voice. Now that she thought about it, she could move her limbs too, though with jerky slow motions only.

Laurel moved through the air, an odd change from the water she had been submerged in before, and was placed on something warm. Her head was ducked against soft skin, it felt like, and she could hear a heartbeat. Laurel was still softly crying, unsure of what was happening. At the same time she was grateful to hear this heartbeat, evidence of another person. She had not met another person since her death.

She could hear voices coming from somewhere above her, but Laurel was too distraught to listen to what they were saying. Laurel leant towards the warmth at her cheek, away from the cold air around her. Suddenly, she was once again lifted into the air, by what she did not know, and then placed on some hard surface that contrasted greatly to the softness of before. Her face scrunched up from her uncomfortable state and a low whine escaped her.

Laurel tried to open her eyes, but a harsh light caused them to close once more. She felt hands on her, some sort of cloth wiping over her firmly. This continued for a short time, Laurel crying out in response, until once again she was picked up, this time she returned to the warm place.

The soft warmness soothed Laurel's cries, her weak hand brushing against what she now felt was skin. Above her she continued to hear voices, most notably a woman and a man. Against her ear she could feel the voice of the woman in her chest, and deduced that that was who she was lying on. Laurel's eyes strained to open once more, this time she saw the man's face close to her own. Her vision was blurred, though she could make out a scruff of dark hair on his head, a form around his eyes that must have been silver, round glasses and a wide toothy grin directed at her. She also saw that he was very young, not much older than she was.

"Hi, there!" The man said, his hand coming up to brush a finger over her cheek. Laurel looked on in confusion, a whimper escaping her despite his overtly friendly demeanour. She blinked her eyes blearily at him in response.

"Wuh." She blurted, trying to form some coherent speech, but all that came was an angry sob. Laurel could see his eyes crinkle in response, smiling wider. The man's hand moved to run over her head, tousling whatever hair she could feel was there.

"She's beautiful, Lily." Laurel could hear the man say to the woman, Lily, who she was lying against. She closed her eyes and all she could feel was Lily's hand resting large and light over her back, hugging her to her chest, before she drifted.

 **31 August 1978. 9:20pm**

Laurel felt a pain in her chest. A strong, deep pain, yet light all the same. She hadn't felt this in a long time, protected in her warm, safe bubble of heaven. So, she started to cry. She awoke, hands flailing slowly around trying to find some sense.

The man was here, her squinting eyes barely managing to place his blurry face. She looked up at him helplessly, for some reason unknown to her trusting him to take this pain away. He smiled at her softly and reached for her, picking her up and cradling her in his arms. Though Laurel felt that there was something logically wrong with this, the warm, safe feeling overrode these thoughts. Her eyes fluttered softly as she felt herself moving, and was placed back into the woman's arms, Lily's arms. This time Laurel could see her face.

The woman was beautiful. A warm, glowing face was framed by deep, dark red hair and centred were striking emerald eyes. The sight of this woman filled Laurel with such love that she could not remember ever feeling before. And she didn't know why. She didn't care very much, either. Too good to question.

"Hey, baby." Lily said, warm smile directed at Laurel. Despite the seemingly unfounded nickname, Laurel made an urgent cry towards Lily, begging a resolve to her problem. Above Laurel, Lily turned her head to James and held out a hand. He gave her what looked like a clear baby bottle, filled with milk. Laurel's brow furrowed. This was starting to get suspicious, she was starting to add things up.

Lily brought the bottle to Laurel's mouth and urged her mouth open. Laurel's mouth stayed firmly closed, even when Lily brought her hand up to brush against her mouth encouragingly. She only relented when she saw that Lily and the man beside her were starting to get upset. It was worth relenting to whatever weird suspicions that Laurel had, just to see the expressions on their face light up.

So, Laurel drank the milk that was forced upon her, becoming begrudgingly grateful as she ingested the first sustenance in as long as she could remember. Lily smiled up at the man.

"She's our baby, James." She said, sounding adorably excited, in Laurel's tired opinion, as if she had said the same phrase over and over a thousand times before in disbelief. The actual words that she had said began to sink in to a slowly drinking Laurel. Laurel had died, she had been killed in fact, then she was in the cold place, then it was warm. And now this, apparently she was a baby. This new, bizarre reality was causing Laurel to enter into a state of calm acceptance, rather than panic.

Maybe something had gone wrong, maybe she had been reincarnated. Maybe she was dreaming. Or maybe she was a freaking baby. She couldn't deny that it was nice though. This state of calm, and constant feeling of warmness and love. Lily and, apparently James, stared down at her, at their baby, with warm, loving smiles.

"Hey, Laurel." Lily said to her. This startled Laurel at first, but she figured that if she could now be a baby after dying, then why couldn't her new parents have some fated strike of ingenuity when naming her?

Laurel hummed around her bottle, continuing to drink and no longer pained by hunger. She looked up at her parents and felt so warm, so loved. So surreal, but so nice.

 **1 September 1978. 12:25am**

"—so small?" Laurel heard being whispered somewhere above her. "I mean, that can't be normal, right? Look!" She felt something hover close to her face. Her nose scrunched up and her eyes blinked open, seeing nothing but a pink mass in front of her eyes. "Her face is the size of my palm? And you've always said I have small, girly hands, Jamie."

"Sirius, get your hand off my child's face, right now!" Laurel heard the stern voice of Lily call to the man who was talking. The pink mass flew away to reveal two new faces looking down at her. When they saw that she was awake they both smiled, the black-haired man on the left crinkled his eyes and the sandy-haired man on the right softened his smile.

"Lil, she's awake. Can I hold her, now." He whined. There was a tired sigh coming from Lily in her bed, then she nodded towards James. He smiled softly at her and went to his daughter's bed. Laurel's eyes flickered to him when he came into view and her limbs wriggled in recognition. James picked up Laurel and cradled her in his arms, gently passing her to the man Lily had called Sirius. At this moment, Laurel felt the nudging feeling in her mind that something odd was happening, even odder than magically waking after death as a baby, but it subsided once she had settled into Sirius' arms.

Laurel looked up at Sirius, and he looked back at her with wide eyes. "Sirius, are you okay? You look a little pale?" James went to take back his baby, Sirius dodged.

"Woah, woah. All good here. Just holding my goddaughter for the first time. I'm not pale… _well_ , I'm the right amount of pale at least…" Sirius bounced the baby softly, smiling down at her.

"About that…" James stuttered after Lily elbowed him quite forcefully. Sirius looked up towards James and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. Laurel turned her head jerkily to her father, humming in interest; it seemed that she had been borne to a dramatic family. "See, Lily…" He was elbowed once more, "And me… me also. We, decided that…for Laurel," James looked to Lily for help. She pursed her lips.

"You're not Laurel's godfather, Sirius." Lily said to him bluntly. Laurel heard a gasp above her and she looked to see him looking betrayed.

"Jamesie, how could you? Moony, take the baby." Sirius' voice was hard and Laurel was passed carefully to the other man, who had the soft, sandy blonde hair and the tired, amused smile. Sirius made a move towards James, who squeaked and ducked behind Lily's bed. Amusement bubbled up in Laurel.

"Lily, you take this one!" James stammered with wide, pleading eyes. Lily sighed and shook her head in defeat.

"How did I marry such a coward?" She muttered to herself. "Sirius." Lily said firmly, and he turned to her with slightly afraid eyes that interested Laurel. "Who was it, in First year, that swam into the middle of the lake on Christmas morning, _bereft_ , at the fact that no one had thought to give the giant squid a present?" Sirius looked guilty.

"Me…" He mumbled.

"And who, just last year, stole a 2,000 year old book from the Restricted Section and ripped out a page to _wipe his nose_?"

"Me…"

"And I know for a fact, there were tissues on the table beside you!"

"I didn't see them!" Sirius exclaimed.

"So you made the leap to deface school property? With your bogies?"

"I'm…beginning to see your point." Sirius seemed resigned. James got up from behind the bed and walked around it to place a comforting hand on his best friend.

"Look, mate. You know we love you?" James prompted him, Sirius nodded. "It's just, we thought Laurel would have Remus as her godfather?" James admitted. Laurel felt Remus' hands hold her more closely and looked up to see his eyes wide.

"Me? But.." Remus tried to protest.

"No buts!" Lily said firmly. "Remus Lupin, you are going to be our first born daughter's godfather, and you are going to do a bloody well good job." Remus smiled sheepishly.

"But my…fluffy little problem?" He said, wary of nurses outside the door. Laurel was confused, thinking that perhaps he had a giant dog unsuitable for children, but soon forgot her train of thought.

"Mate, that doesn't matter. That's just one night a month. You'll just have to be the world's best godfather the other 30-odd days." James smiled at his friend.

"Yeah." Sirius interjected, a crooked grin once again brightening his face. "And I'll get the next one!" He looked expectantly towards Lily and James, who both nodded with soft, fond smiles.

Remus rocked Laurel in his arms, looking fondly down at her. His hand came up to hers, and one big finger wriggled into her palm. She squeezed in anticipation and wasn't disappointed as his tired eyes lit up. This wasn't so bad, she thought. Actually, this was the happiest and most content she had been in…as long as she could remember. Now, if she could only discover what that nudging feeling her mind seemed intent on her acknowledging was, exactly.


	3. Claritate

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Two: Claritate [Clarity]**

 **3 September 1978. 2:00pm**

Laurel and her new parents had arrived at their home precisely at the same time they had left the hospital, which Laurel had ascertained to be "St Mungo's". Whatever fuzzy 'newborn' thoughts had clouded her mind before were no longer in effect. That was magic: teleportation, apparition… Something strange was indeed happening, and it was, as she had thought before, even stranger than her rebirth as a baby.

Her mother, Lily, set her down in a bassinet that was placed in the living room of what Laurel had determined was her new home. As her parents stared down at her, she studied them in return. Her mother was a woman named Lily. She had shining emerald eyes, deep auburn hair and a somewhat fiery personality to match the aforementioned hair. Her father was a man named James. He had soft grey eyes, jet-black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. They had two best friends, named Remus and Sirius. This man and this woman, who stared down at Laurel with so much love, as parents were wont to do, were Lily and James Potter.

She knew this not because she had overheard it along with all of the other information she had managed to gather. No, Laurel knew that these people were Lily and James Potter because she had read them described as such many times before. Young Laurel, sitting on her long-lost couch at her far-away home, had sat down with her favourite series, and had engaged in the story of an orphan boy who longed for these two people standing before her.

So, when Lily Potter reached down into her bassinet and stroked her tiny, soft baby cheek with a single finger, in such awe of her daughter, Laurel felt blessed. She did not know why this had happened, or indeed how, but, God, she was going to take what had happened to her and use it for good. Laurel would use what she knew, and she would prevent as much heartache and as many undesirable events as possible.

"Lils…?" Laurel was startled out of her, admittedly rambling, thoughts by James asking for his wife.

"Yes, James?" Lily called from where she had gone into the next room.

"She's looking at me funny." He looked unnerved and narrowed his eyes at his daughter playfully.

Laurel's eyes jerked over to where Lily now stood in the door frame. Lily crossed her arms and her brow raised inquisitively.

"Well…" James trailed off. "She's just so serious, her little forehead is all furrowed, see!" James placed his finger on where the supposed forehead wrinkles were. Laurel jerked her head away and made a disgruntled noise.

"James! Leave her alone! She's only been here, what, ten minutes? And you're already picking on her." Lily sounded exasperated as she walked towards Laurel and picked her up, cradling her daughter in her arms. "Your daddy's a mean man, isn't he?"

"Whu—?" James spluttered. "Am not!" Lily looked at him unimpressed.

"Is this where I say 'are too'?"

"Psh, no!" James looked indignant. Lily raised her brow at him again, which Laurel suspected was custom for their relationship. "Okay, fine." Her father turned his head towards her, addressing the wriggling baby in Lily's arms directly. "Laurel, I am sorry for any distrust I may have shown to you. I do not, in fact, think that you are anything other than my _frankly adorable_ baby girl."

With that, James lifted Laurel out of Lily's arms and rocked her, smiling up at Lily who smiled tiredly back at him. It was that exchange that solidified Laurel's resolve, she would protect and love these two people, barely out of childhood themselves, with all of her heart, and, as soon as he was born, she would protect and love that little orphan boy that had filled her with so much love of magic and mayhem. She would protect Harry Potter.

 **8 October 1978. 11:45am**

"Oh, shit, Lily! Her first smile." James shouted over his shoulder to his wife who was downstairs. He kneeled, chin resting against the bars of Laurel's crib, head turned down to look at the wriggling baby on the blankets.

"Wha—James? Do not swear in front of our infant daughter! And, anyway, it was probably just gas." Laurel heard Lily almost scream back. Her smile widened, which seemed to make James glow with both happiness and smugness.

"She did too, Lils! She's still smiling, come look!" Laurel turned her head as Lily rushed into her nursery. She came to a stop and her head tilted as her daughter's did.

"Oh shit, James."

"Hah! Look who's swearing now!" James said triumphantly, smiling up at his wife. He paused and looked back down to Laurel. "Though, it's hard not to. Lils, how'd we make this miracle?"

Laurel looked towards her mother whose smile had frozen, she blinked out of it and looked at James.

"I'm…pretty sure you were there, babe." James smirked in reply, that was something that Laurel did not particularly think about. She softly sneezed in disgust, James' eyes widened.

"Whoa, is she sick?" He looked to Lily with worry, she rolled her eyes at him in return.

"It was a sneeze, I'm sure she's fine, genius." Lily walked towards her daughter's crib and bent down past James, picking Laurel up. "Now, come downstairs, lunch's ready."

So, they went downstairs and Lily sat at the dining table, asking James to get the bottle ready for Laurel. He gave a fake annoyed sigh and got it ready, passing it to Lily once it was heated. Lily smiled up at him and placed the bottle at Laurel's mouth, coaxing it in, smiling down at her baby as she began to drink.

"She is so beautiful." James muttered to his wife with disbelief, and she laughed at what he had said.

"Of course she is, she's ours!" Lily turned her head and they shared a sweet kiss. Laurel grumbled around her bottle, thinking it both sweet and sickening to see her new parents act so mushily. Lily laughed at her baby, thinking that she was just like James.

"I think it's 'cause she looks like you." James said with a smirk. Lily had that frozen look again, that sad smile.

"No…I think she looks more like her father. I mean, that hair!" James looked proud as could be, ruffling his daughters fluffy black hair, Lily looked like her smile had become a little faked.

Laurel furrowed her brow, curious at what her mother was thinking, but decided that it wasn't worth the lack of attention she was giving her bottle, her infant brain winning that fight.

 **15 November 1978. 2:13am**

Faint sobbing could be heard in the next room, and Laurel was concerned. She had been in this world for not-quite two months and had never heard anything of the like in this house, which she had come to see as a happy and joyful place of familial love and boyish shenanigans. But there was the unmistakeable sound of crying, most likely from the next room to Laurel's.

So, she blinked open her eyes and squirmed her tiny limbs as furiously as she could and rocked her body side to side in an effort to roll closer in the crib to the door that was cracked open a smidge.

"What's wrong, hun?" Laurel heard James ask his crying wife in a soft, slightly terrified voice. The sobs only grew louder. "C'mon, you can tell me."

"No, I can't!" Lily whined, voice sounding muffled by her hands likely covering her mouth. An uncomfortable sound escaped Laurel when the room grew quiet, but she could still almost feel the agony of her mother.

"Lils, what is it? Am I gonna be mad?" Lily's crying became audible once more. "Hey, that's okay. I promise you, I won't get mad!" James' voice lilted higher in comfort of Lily.

"Yes, you will!" Lily shouted, and Laurel heard a heavy thud. She jerked back from where her head was lying pressed against the bars of her crib, and gave a cry.

"Wh—Lils, don't do that! You upset Laurel." James sounded disappointed and his voice grew closer to Laurel. He pressed open the door and saw his baby daughter looking up at him in the dark with scared, tired eyes and he sighed. "Hey, doe-face! How ya doin'?"

His soft voice and the affectionately given nickname brought Laurel some comfort, and her hands raised to make a grabbing motion in the air. James bent into the crib and picked her up, bouncing while cradling her in his arms, trying to scare away any bad thought that had entered Laurel's mind.

"James, come here! We weren't finished!" Lily called angrily from their bedroom. James sighed once more, sounding infinitely older than his eighteen years, and softly pushed the door to Laurel's nursery shut.

James turned and sat in the rocking chair that swayed peacefully in the corner of the room, and brought his daughter up closer on his chest. One large hand came to cradle the back of her head, and James started to rock back and forth in the chair, humming some disjointed tune, unknown to anyone but himself.

 **23 December 1978. 7:01pm**

It was Christmas Eve-Eve and Laurel was lying on her stomach on a plush blanket, right in front of a red, roaring fire. Around her in the family room was her parents and their friends, namely Sirius, Remus and the elusive rat, Peter. She was currently facing Peter, looking up at him with narrowed eyes and a tiny, pursed mouth.

"Why are you looking so serious, honeybug?" Laurel rolled over onto her back and faced Sirius, who had just spoken to her. She made a worried hum and furrowed her brow, concerned about the rat. Sirius laughed in response and leant over, picking her up and soaring her through the air and onto his lap. He faced her towards him and held her hands in his, clapping them together. Sirius looked up to his friends with a doggish grin, "Get it, serious?" Laurel could almost hear the eye-rolls.

"Padfoot, when are you gonna learn that that joke just isn't funny?" She heard her father say exasperatedly. Sirius looked mockingly shocked.

"What, that joke has always been funny, and it always will be!"

"It's never been funny!" Remus chimed in with a chuckle.

"Has too!" Sirius pouted. The rest of the Marauders and Lily laughed at his misfortune. "Psh, you guys are just jealous of my comedic prowess!"

"Comedic prowess?" Lily asked incredulously, getting a confident nod and a smirk from Sirius in return. "I think it's more of a wilful ignorance!" Laurel saw her father hug Lily from behind and look down at her head proudly at the remark.

"H—have you guys heard about the newest Death Eater attack in Bristol?" Peter stuttered from where he sat in an armchair in the corner of the room. Groans sounded around the room.

"Way to bring down the atmosphere, Pete!" James lamented the clouds that Peter had pulled down on everyone's moods. Laurel's eyes narrowed and she listened to the rat, despite her well-earned distaste of him, he was always good for some fearful intel on Voldemort's goings-on.

"Yes, I've heard." Remus muttered, getting agreeing nods from his friends. "Six muggles, all killed by Death Eaters."

"And one Auror, after they arrived at the scene." Lily added.

"Louie Tellurius, it was. He was at Hogwarts just a few years before we were." Sirius added, looking guilty at the death of an old schoolmate.

"S—scary, those Death Eaters are, huh?" Peter mumbled with a terrified laugh and a deathly pale face.

"Yeah, well I'm scarier." Sirius snapped at him. "I swear, I'm gonna, become an Auror. Or, I dunno, do _something_ to stop this. Everything is 'death' these days." He paused. "For Merlin's sake, I'm nineteen years old and I'm getting wrinkles." There were a few faint laughs around the room. "And, the other day, I found a _white hair_. A _white_ hair. Not grey, oh no. _White_. You know who has white hair, Moony?"

Moony rolled his eyes and guessed with an indulgent smile, "Dumbledore?"

"Exactly! Dumbledore. I don't want to end up like that, Moony! All… _old_ …the babes'll never date me if I look that old!" Sirius fell on top of Remus as if in a faint at the very idea, taking Laurel along with him. She squealed in laughter at the giddy feeling the rush gave her. Moony looked down at his goddaughter with a soft smile.

He picked her up and held her close to his chest, pulling his leg up underneath him to kick Sirius off of him.

"Ouch, dangit, Moony, no need for the abuse!" Sirius howled as he fell to the floor. "Not in front of the baby!" He sobbed with fake terror.

"I'm pretty sure you'll walk it off." Remus said to Sirius sardonically, looking down at him with raised eyebrows and an unsympathetic smile. Sirius grinned up at him, nose wrinkling.

"I don't know why I put up with this!" Sirius sighed, getting up to sit beside Remus and Laurel again. Lily and James looked down at them from where they were standing with the sudden realisation that they were the proud parents of not one, but three children.


	4. Pugnare

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Three: Pugnare [to Fight]**

 **4 February 1979. 3:02pm**

A clear ringing tone sung throughout the house and James was startled. He twitched and snorted, flipping from the couch he was draped across and onto the floor.

"Fuck me." He mumbled confusedly, looking around with frantic eyes and calming when he saw neither Lily nor Laurel. "That was close." He smirked to himself with a grateful chuckle. The ring sounded again. His head snapped up. "The door!" He exclaimed excitedly, looking stunningly like an excited family pet, rather than the husband of the family.

James rose to his feet and rearranged his robes to not reflect any internal disorder that may have arisen due to his quick awakening and he journeyed to the source of the sound. He turned the doorknob and the heavy wooden door swung open to reveal…

"Minnie!" James squeaked excitedly. He rushed forward through the doorframe with his arms open in welcome.

"No." 'Minnie' said severely.

"Wha—no?"

"No." The woman reiterated. James pouted and dropped his hands, lamenting the obvious one-sidedness to his and Minerva McGonagall's friendship-slash-mentorship.

"Why—are you here then? If not for a glorious reunion…" James sounded off-put. His visitor gave him a small sliver of a smile, undoubtedly considered alike a grin by her standards, and walked passed him when he waved her inside.

They came to the living room off to the side and they sat on opposing couches, one of which James had arose from so swiftly before.

"Professor Dumbledore has sent me." Minerva started.

"Dumbledore! How is ol' Dumby? Still up to the same old shenanigans?" James said in a joking tone. At Minerva's flat look, James rethought his joke, "I mean…what's goin' on Professor?" His tone cleared and became serious in response to her seriousness. She relented and her face softened, she reached into a pocket in her robes and took out a small scrap of parchment, and handed it to James.

"What's this?" James questioned hesitantly.

"Just read it, Mr Potter." Minerva said sternly.

At this, James opened the folded parchment and looked down, seeing a few lines written in brilliant green ink reminiscent of his love's emerald eyes, the handwriting recognisably Albus Dumbledore's.

" _Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix,_

 _35 Denmark Avenue, Wimbledon, London."_

"What's the paper for? And what's the 'Order of the—'"

"The Order of the Phoenix was created by Professor Dumbledore after the war began, in an effort to combat the Death Eater forces. And the paper is a security measure; no one but Professor Dumbledore himself has the ability to tell others the location of our headquarters." Minerva interrupted James, who now looked at her with raised eyebrows and an overwhelmed smile.

"Okay. That's…quite the speech you got there. What does that have to do with me?" James mumbled confusedly.

"The Order's numbers have…depleted in recent times."

"Meaning, a lot of these 'Order' people have been killed?" James interjected.

"Yes." Minerva pursed her lips in discontent. "Albus has…seen potential, in a lot of recent graduates. This includes you, Mr Potter, as well as Miss Evans, Mr Black and Mr Lupin."

James nodded absently, twisting his mouth behind his fist. "Mrs Potter." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Minerva questioned with narrowed eyes.

"Lily, she married me. Took my name. Mrs Potter." James elaborated. Minerva notably almost rolled her eyes. "And Peter?"

"Mr Pettigrew?"

"You didn't say his name, does Dumbledore want him for the Order too?" James asked, loyal to the end. Minerva did not look so confident in Peter's ability.

"…Uh, yes." Minerva relented. "Mr Pettigrew is welcome to join along with the rest of you."

"So, this Order, you battle Death Eaters?" Minerva nodded. "You save Muggles? And Muggle-borns?" She nodded each time.

"Muggles, Pure-bloods, everyone in between. The Order wishes to put an end to Voldemort's reign of terror, and to the war." Minerva summarised, Scottish accent lilting dryly. James gave his ex-professor a wry smile and a grateful smile for her indulgence.

"Well, I can't speak for the others, but I'm in." James said confidently.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Mr Potter. Attend the next Order meeting, and bring your friends." Minerva insisted, she rose from the couch.

"Hey, stay? For tea? Tea is good…" James offered. Minerva gave him an indulgent smile and shook her head.

"I'm afraid I cannot, urgent business for the Order." Minerva explained. James relented and led her back to the front door. He bid her goodbye and shut the door behind her, a heavy thud resounding. He gave a serious sigh and went back to the couch, throwing himself onto it with a heave.

James felt that he had made the right choice, the obvious choice. Of course he had to fight in the war, against the Death Eaters and against Voldemort. He gave another sigh and rubbed his face with his hands.

"What's wrong with you, glum Gus?" He heard above him. Lily had come down from her and Laurel's nap. James' hands slid down his face and he saw his beautiful Lily above him, smiling warmly down at him, Laurel in her arms giving a dopey smile to him as well.

James grinned up at them, reaching up to take Laurel when Lily handed her down. Laurel flew through the air, James turning her to sit on his chest facing him. He picked up her hands and held on to help her sit up, she mumbled intelligibly at him with bright eyes and his heart warmed with love for her.

Lily smirked at her husband from above, finding the dopey expressions that both James and Laurel got around the people that they loved both amusing and adorable.

"What's wrong, babe?" She repeated. James broke eye contact with Laurel and looked up at Lily.

"Uh, Professor McGonagall just visited."

"She did, why?" Lily was confused, thinking it odd that an old professor would visit graduated students.

"Uh…I can't tell you." James lamented. "Oh, wait! Here!" He exclaimed, handing her the now crumpled piece of parchment that McGonagall had given him. Lily looked it over curiously.

"'The Order of the Phoenix'." She read. Lily looked up at her husband questioningly.

"Yeah, apparently Dumbledore has this army of people that are fighting against Voldemort!" James said, excited that he had found a way to tell her. "And he wants us to join!"

"Wh—fight Voldemort?" Lily said hesitantly.

"Yeah!"

"But, that's dangerous." She said somewhat redundantly.

"Well, obviously there's a bit of danger involved…but, this is exactly what Sirius was talking about at Christmas! Doing _something_!" James sat up, pulling Laurel to sit against his chest. He looked pleadingly towards his wife.

"I don't know…" She faltered.

"C'mon, Minnie said we can just go to the next meeting, and decide then." James explained.

"'Minnie'?" Lily deadpanned with a smirk at James' childhood nickname for the professor.

"Yes, _Minnie_." He emphasised. Lily remained hesitant, but seemed to be relenting, at least for the one meeting.

"Okay…but I reserve the right to change my mind!" Lily said, getting an instantaneous grin from James, causing her to smile softly in return.

"Yes! Now I gotta tell the other Marauder's!" James leapt up from his seat on the couch and handed Laurel to the startled Lily, rushing over to the fireplace.

 **10 February, 1979. 7:13pm**

"The…first order of business is the attack that occurred last night at…9:30pm, on the outskirts of Birmingham, near Kingsbury Road. Eight Muggles were killed, and two Muggle-borns." Dumbledore stood at the head of a heavy, wooden table surrounded by the Order members lining each side, he detailed the most recent attack with seriousness.

The newest members of the Order, inducted earlier that night, were James, Lily, Sirius, Remus and Peter, and they huddled together near the corner of the room.

"Our Death Eater informant who shall not be named was able to provide an approximate time and location for this attack, and as such we arrived promptly and minimised damage." He continued, "The Aurors arrived some eight minutes after our intervention, we then left the battle to avoid prosecution. However, two Death Eaters were apprehended by the Aurors, they were unmasked as being Loralee Young and Tynere Blackwood."

Beside James, Sirius startled. His eyes widened and his throat tightened from remembering that Lora was in the year below them at Hogwarts, and that Sirius had dated her for a month, a surprisingly long time for him.

"Voldemort's immediate forces are now estimated by our informant to be of approximately 43 persons." Most of the Order members cringed reflexively at Voldemort's name, accustomed to the more common, 'You-Know-Who'.

"And we are?" A man interjected from Dumbledore's side. He looked towards the man questioningly, blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"I assume you are talking of our own numbers?" Dumbledore asked kindly. The man gave a short nod in return, hands crossed and with a stern look on his face.

"As of today, the Order of the Phoenix has 27 members—"

"Oh, we're including the children now, are we?"

"Luciano, these men and women may have just graduated—"

"No—"

" _But_!" Dumbledore said forcefully, contrasting greatly to his earlier and usual kindness, causing Luciano and the other Order members to jump slightly. "I assure you, they are entirely capable duellists, and as such are capable of becoming prominent and successful Order members. Otherwise, I would not have invited them to join us here!" Dumbledore lightened towards the end, giving a look to Luciano, almost daring him to argue further. Luciano gave another short nod, this time relenting to Dumbledore's better judgement.

James just continued to sit amongst his friends, watching the proceedings with a serious face and a heavy heart.

 **10 February, 1979. 10:20pm**

The Order meeting had just concluded, and James and his friends were at the end of the line for the fireplace when Dumbledore approached them.

"Would you five please remain?" Dumbledore said, motioning towards the five friends. He ushered them back towards the room with the large wooden table. They sat around it, Dumbledore again at the head. "You are considering becoming members?" He questioned.

"Uh, yes, absolutely, Professor Dumbledore." James stuttered, the others nodding solemnly in agreement.

"That's good. Very good." Dumbledore gave a smile and nodded his head slightly. "Now, as new members, you'll not be going on any mission." Sirius made a small sound of protest. "Yes, Mr Black, quite unfortunate, I agree. But, first you'll need to be assessed and evaluated by a senior member. And, if you are suited to participate in missions, you will then be assigned a senior member of the Order as your partner and given missions accordingly."

"And if we aren't suited?" Remus asked quietly.

"Then there are plenty of positions able to be filled outside of field action. But I have no doubt in you five." Dumbledore finished softly, giving an uncertain look towards Peter who nervously sat off to the side. "But, not to worry, you will be contacted sometime next week with the details of your assessment."

"I apologise, I've yet to thank you for agreeing to join the Order." A grateful smile lifted his wary, wizened features.

"It's just…our duty, Professor." Sirius said quietly with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"I know this is a fact, that there are not many people your age that would willingly fight in a war." Dumbledore said earnestly. "So, I thank you. Now, off you pop!" He said light-heartedly. "If I am not mistaken, Mr and Mrs Potter, you have a young daughter to attend to?" Lily and James smiled brightly as they all stood.

"Yeah, Laurel, she's just five months." James interjected proudly. Dumbledore looked at him with nostalgia.

"Ah, the innocence of a child. Nothing is quite so pure." He tapered off. The five friends made their way past Dumbledore who remained pondering at the table, and one by one they stood in the brilliant green flames and threw Floo powder down. The last to go, James, shouted, "Potter Cottage", and he left with a twist in his step.


	5. Anno

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Four: Anno [Year]**

 **14 May, 1979. 11:04pm**

Laurel sat in her highchair at the dining table of Potter Cottage, and sitting across from her was her father. James' arms were crossed with his chin resting atop them, eyes narrowed at his infant daughter.

"Laurel," He started in a serious tone, "you can do this." Laurel gave him a toothy smile, amused at his antics. "Two syllables, come on! Da. Da." James' arms moved to his side and his forehead fell down to the table with a thud. Laurel giggled, and James' head shot up with a smile.

"What are you two doing?" Lily had entered the room to see her husband and daughter in what looked like a standoff. James looked at her pleadingly.

"Lils, I swear, this kid has it out for me!" He lamented, causing Lily to scoff at him. "No! I'm not kidding! How come she can say Mama, but not Dada?" Lily gave him a deadpan look. She shook her head and sat at the table next to Laurel in her highchair, picking up the purple plastic bowl that sat there.

"James, your daughter adores you as much as you adore her." Lily said with a tiny smile, and she picked up the rubber spoon that sat in the mush of chicken and rice. Laurel hummed in happiness as she was fed, thanking God that the whole baby food stage was over.

"But how come she says your name and not mine?" He whined.

"Mamama." Laurel mumbled with a bright smile directed at James. Her father gasped and looked back at the baby, betrayed, and Laurel chuckled in response.

"See, now she's… _mocking_ me!"

"She is _not_ mocking you!" Lily said loudly, shaking her head in wonder. "She's just a baby." Laurel just sat there, amused at her father's insight into the truth, opening her mouth for another spoonful.

"I've got a funny feeling about this one, Lils." James gave Laurel a pretend stink-eye, breaking character to smile fondly at his happy daughter.

 **1 September, 1979. 8:15am**

A sharp buzzing whine filled the room, followed swiftly by a shout of pain and a heavy thud. James cackled, head thrown back with a party blower hanging out of the side of his mouth.

"No!" Sirius shouted from where he was, now on the floor by the couch. His hands covered his ears, fingers gripping at his hair. He gave a whimper of pain, to which James rolled his eyes and took the party blower out of his mouth.

"Get up, Padfoot! It's 8:15!" He shouted.

"Back away, heathen!" A muffled shout returned from the floor. James chuckled and turned, going to the kitchen in the next room.

"You want coffee?" James called back to Sirius.

"Fine." Another muffled shout.

"Then come get it."

"Ugh." Sirius complained and slowly rose from the ground, sleepy eyes blinking in the sunlight. He followed after James into the kitchen. "Why are you up so early?" James looked at his best friend fondly.

"I have a one year old daughter, Sirius." He said obviously. Sirius gave a nod of realisation and sympathy.

"Wait, since when is she one?" Sirius looked tired and confused.

"Since yesterday, Pads!" James said exasperatedly. "Honestly, I don't know how the hell you managed to get so drunk at a one-year old's birthday party!" Sirius gave a smug smile.

"It's a talent." James shook his head fondly at his friend. He handed Sirius a freshly made coffee and took his own to the dining table where he sat. Lily was sitting there reading the _Daily Prophet_ , Laurel was by her side in her highchair with a bowl of Cheerios in front of her, glancing at the newspaper with eyes looking back and forth across the page.

"Laurel's reading the paper." James informed Lily, who just gave a small smile. Laurel was startled out of her concentration and she smiled up at him smugly.

"Sure, James."

"Soor, Dad." Laurel jokingly mocked him, strangely proud of herself for her continuously developing spoken vocabulary.

"Oh, God." Sirius said from the corner, staring strangely at the baby. James, Lily and Laurel looked at him inquisitively. "That's a person?" His voice went high. Lily looked confused, while James rolled his eyes and smirked.

"Yes, Sirius. Laurel is a person." James answered him.

"But, like, she speaks? And…seems to mock you?" Sirius sounded freaked out. James' chest jumped with laughter. "Jamesy…you made a person?" He sounded incredulous. "How is that possible? You're both nineteen!" Lily looked to be in disbelief at Sirius' apparent revelation.

"I think you know how we made her, Sirius…" James trailed off with a grin. Sirius looked at him blankly, eyes then darting to Laurel who looked up at him bemused.

"But—?" He sat down at the table. "The greatest thing I've ever made is a really nice sandwich." Sirius' eyes widened at his friends, seeming to be trying to get some sympathy for his dilemma.

"Well, I'm sure it was a great sandwich, buddy!" James clapped his friend on the shoulder in congratulations.

"What sandwich?" Remus entered the kitchen, blinking the tiredness from his eyes.

"Sirius' best creation was a great sandwich." James reiterated. Remus narrowed his eyes and nodded confused.

"Moony, they have a baby." Sirius turned to Remus and said, pointing back at Lily and James who continued to sit, amused. Laurel sat between them, bringing a Cheerio to her mouth every now and then.

"I see. I think she's been around for…'bout a year, was it?" Remus asked James.

"Just about, Moony!" James said proudly.

Sirius exhaled and sat back in his chair, hands coming up to run through his hair.

"Are we grown-ups?" He asked hesitantly. Lily snorted into her coffee.

"I don't know about you, Sirius, but we all are." She informed him with a smirk. "Actually, I think we can all agree that Sirius'll never be a 'grown-up'." Remus huffed in agreement, and sat down to join the rest of his friends.

 **20 October, 1979. 5:16pm**

The four friends were sitting around the living room of Potter Cottage once more. They all seemed to be melancholy, tightened lips and far-away eyes.

"Where'd, ah, Pete go?" Sirius asked the room distantly.

"He said he, had some private business?" James said, confused at what private business Wormtail would have. A scoff came from the middle of the room, and they all looked over to see Laurel sitting on the floor with a heavy book in her lap, rolling her eyes. Collectively, they stared at her with odd looks.

Laurel realised herself and looked up at them, giving a disarming, baby-toothed smile. The adults of the room dismissed Laurel's characteristically odd behaviour.

"Uh, why is the baby reading…" Sirius trailed off and reached down to lift up the cover of the book on Laurel's lap, "… _Hogwarts: A History_?" He looked up at Lily inquisitively.

"What, you've never seen a baby read a chapter book before?" Lily dead-panned with a smirk, then gave a soft chuckle, smirk turning to a small smile. "I don't know why…she likes holding books, maybe? It weirdly does look like she reads them, though. Maybe she's an early learner?" Lily chuckled. James wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her to his side, smiling into her hair.

"Laur's mimicking her Mum." James explained. Sirius made an understanding face and dropped the cover of Laurel's book, who looked around at her family, bemused.

Laurel pushed the book from her lap, having finished the section on the creatures found in the Forbidden Forest, and stood on wobbly legs. She made her way to the couch and tapped Remus on the leg, who then picked her up and sat her between him and Sirius.

"Did, uh, any of you get a mission?" Sirius asked, brow furrowed. Around him they all nodded vaguely. They had just attended another meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, all of them had completed their training, save Peter who was deemed not fit for the field, and had just separately received their first missions.

"Me and Gideon are supposed to be doing ours soon…" Sirius continued, looking uneasily to his friends. "I'm, a little scared?" He sounded hesitant, like it was wrong for him to feel that way.

"Pads, we all are. And, that's fine…" Remus told him softly. "We're, doing what's right."

Sirius nodded firmly and sighed, eyes hardened. He then looked down at Laurel beside him and gave her a fond smile, hands coming down to slide her into his arms. Sirius cradled her, rocking her back and forth, Laurel giving him a bright smile and a short laugh.

"Hey, Honeybug. Anything interesting in that book?" He asked her in that voice that all adults seemed to address her in. Laurel gave him a flat stare, making him laugh in return.

"Lemmylo." Laurel mumbled, cursing her toddler tongue.

"I swear, this kid…" Sirius shook his head in amazement.

 **3 December 1979. 3:22pm**

"Wass?" Laurel asked, confused to see her parents sitting across from each other at the dining table. Lily looked completely ecstatic and highly amused, while James looked alarmingly pale and wide-eyed. Laurel's mum gave a bark of laughter at her questioning look and picked her up to sit on her lap.

"Well, Laurel, your father look like he's about to faint because I just told him we're gonna have another baby." Lily said, words clouded with her smile.

Laurel startled, eyes widening, as she had forgotten about that fact. Her head jolted to look down at Lily's stomach, tiny finger poking at her shirt, around where Harry Potter was laying around about then.

"Woh." Laurel grunted, wide eyes looking up at Lily who looked down at her, amazed.

"James, it's as if she just understood." Lily sounded freaked out, as people often did around the startlingly aware Laurel. The baby gave a meek laugh and wiggled out of Lily's lap, hurrying away to the next room. Her parents stared after her. Lily shook herself out of her stupor and turned her attention back to her shell-shocked husband.

"James, new baby?" She prompted. James then shook his head in an effort to disturb any suspicious thoughts towards his daughter and turned to Lily with a wide grin.

"Lils, that's great!" He beamed. "I mean, we weren't trying for a baby and we've already got a baby and we're almost twenty, no time to waste, haha." He sounded freaked out.

"Babe, slow down." Lily looked at James wide-eyed. He gave a stuttered laugh and took a deep breath.

"No, this is great, Lils. Another baby! Another Laurel! Sure, it's unexpected, but it's great." James sounded marginally calmed down. Lily looked at him warily. "Seriously." James assured her, then stood up from the table and walked around it, and held his hand out for her.

Lily looked up at him with a fond smile and took his hand, him pulling her up and into his arms for a hug. James held his wife tightly and swayed her back and forth in excitement. He suddenly held her at arm's length and looked down at her belly, where his second child now was, and bent down so that his face was right in front of it.

"Hey, there, little guy!" He said loudly, most likely wanting the baby to hear his voice through Lily's belly. Lily scoffed and smacked his head with a faint laugh.

"Don't yell at our child, James." She told him off. "And just why did you call it a he?"

"Well, obviously it's a boy!" James said with a furrowed brow, confused as to why Lily didn't know this.

"What?"

"Yeah! We have a little princess, now we just need a little dude and we'll have the complete set!" James grinned at Lily, who rolled her eyes fondly at him.

In the next room, Laurel was sitting against the couch, worrying her lip between her few teeth. Harry Potter was going to be born in under nine months, and Laurel had to somehow stop all of the bad things that she knew would happen. She slumped to the side and her arms flopped in exasperation; it was a lot of pressure to put on those tiny shoulders.


	6. Coactione

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Five: Coactione [Compulsion]**

 **1 March, 1980. 2:13pm**

"No!" James exclaimed, Lily just stared at him with a narrowed eyes, an expectant look and tilted her head to the side. "Okay!" He relented, gaining a suddenly bright smile from his wife.

"Yeah!" A small shout came from amongst their legs. Laurel marched to the door of the store that they were in front of, pushing on the glass valiantly, but to no avail. It suddenly swung open, causing her to smile and walk over the threshold, her father smiling down at her with one hand holding the door open, amused at his independent daughter.

Lily's hand pumped up in victory and she followed the waddling toddler into the store, hands cradling her pregnant belly. She made her way around to the back of the window display, where Laurel's face was pressed against the bars. A thin, black cat with fluffy fur rubbed itself against the bars, tail hitting Laurel's nose with a swish.

"Cat, yeah!" Laurel whispered, almost in worship of the cat. Lily knelt beside her and wiggled her fingers in between the bars of the cage, getting a brush of the cat's tail in greeting.

James sighed and made his way to the store's front counter, simply giving an indicative wave over to where his family was fawning over the hell beast—so-called by James—to which the store owner gave a sympathetic nod and a beckoning hand for money.

He relented his nine galleons with a sigh and a reluctant smile at Laurel and Lily, who looked at him with bright smiles, Lily was handed the cat by the _wild-beast handler_. Laurel stood on the tips of her toes, little fingers just brushing the fur of his tail, against the protruding belly of her mother. This was a big step for the Potter family, with James' allergy to cats having previously meant a cat-less household. James was a bit disgruntled at the new member of their family, but was grateful for the smiles on their faces, and for the sight of his family, happy even in a time of war.

 **Elsewhere. 1 March, 1980. 10:14pm**

Sharp intakes of breath pervaded the quiet, still air. A man was running, and he had just come to a stop in the entrance of a crooked, cobbled alley that was between two dark and dank houses. Greasy black hair hung lank in his eyes, which stared black, cold and unusually panicked into the empty air.

Severus Snape was not as happy as the Potters were; in fact, he had just been given clarity in a matter involving the Potters themselves. There had been a prophecy, detailing a child that would defeat the Dark Lord, that he would be 'born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies'. Severus had just heard of Lily's pregnancy, that her child would be born at the time the Prophecy had said.

Now, the Dark Lord was planning to kill Lily, his one Love, and it was Severus' fault. He had to do _something_ , he had to save her. There was only one man that could help Severus now, and that man was Albus Dumbledore. It would be painful to admit his wrongness, but she was worth the loss of pride.

 **17 April 1980. 5:20pm**

It had been a month since the Potter's had been told of the Prophecy that may decide the fate of their unborn son, a month since they had been torn from their home to live in the protected Godric's Hollow, and a month since Snape had turned spy for Albus Dumbledore.

They were at the headquarters of the Order, and most of the members were in the meeting room, discussing the supposed plans that Voldemort had against the Potter family. Frank and Alice Longbottom were also there, with her being pregnant with a son due at the same time as the Potters', who was also possibly the child of the Prophecy.

However, Laurel obviously was not included in this meeting. Instead, she was stuck in the living room of the house that served as headquarters, being somewhat minded by the rat who snivelled in the corner. Laurel shot a dirty look towards Pettigrew from where she sat rom on the floor of the opposite corner, the book that her mother had brought home for her, _Yertle the Turtle_ , chosen because of Laurel's relent on reading bigger books—Seuss was fine for all ages, thank you very much.

"Oh, Yert!" Laurel sighed distractedly at his misadventure, startling to hear the door to the meeting room slam open.

Snape exited the room to see the toddler blinking up at him with weary eyes, which brightened at seeing him. He looked confused at her reaction, which had quickly turned distrustful.

James and Lily then exited the room after him, with James giving a proud smile at his daughter's stink-eye that was directed at Snape—she reasoned to herself that this man was a Death Eater, only reformed because of what had, most likely by now, been prophesised. Laurel wasn't entirely sure on this, her knowledge being only from her previously reading the books.

"Hey, what're you reading there, Hon?" Lily said, wanting to break the awkward silence.

"Yert." Laurel said obviously, indicating the cover that they had picked out earlier that afternoon. James gave a short laugh, walking around to swing his daughter up into his arms. He looked back at Lily, smiling.

"Yeah, Mama! You don't remember picking out 'Yert' just a couple hours ago?" He chuckled, and Lily rolled her eyes, turning her back on them and heading towards the front door.

"You two need to stop picking on me!" She called back, James then following after her. He walked past Snape, who he gave a distrustful look towards, and joined his wife in the cool night air.

They walked to the curb, but James promptly ran into Lily who had stopped in front of him. One hand had come up to her mouth, and when James bent around Lily to look at her face, he saw tears running down her now blotchy-red face.

"What's wrong, Lils?" He asked her with a soft, surprised voice. Laurel swayed her head around to look worriedly at her crying mother.

Lily just shook her head lightly and gripped James' shirt sleeve, pulling him slightly to continue down the pathway. James' brow furrowed and his lips pursed in worry, he didn't know what had caused his wife's sudden distress, but he suspected it was Snape, that bastard.

 **23 April 1980. 6:15pm**

Days after her upset, Lily was finally ready to talk about what had made her cry, what had been making her cry for two years. She sat cross-legged on her and James' bed, her husband beside her, and began to talk.

"It was…about two years ago, January of our last year at Hogwarts," Lily paused and looked to James, who nodded silently in encouragement, "Severus approached me." James' expression soured already, not liking where this was going. "He…said that he wanted to talk to me, that he was scared."

"Scared?" James asked dubiously. "And—"

"And I believed him!" Lily's face scrunched up at her self-believed stupidity. James' brow furrowed and he reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Lils, that's okay. I mean, you always want to see the best in people…even Snape, the bastard." Lily huffed a quiet laugh at James' description of him, gaining a bright smile from James who was always pleased to make her happy. But, she sobered once more.

"He…took me to his dorm, said that we could speak in private there, and told me that he had been approached by the Death Eaters over Winter break, by _Voldemort_." Lily whispered the last word, emphasising her fear at this. James nodded for her to continue. "He said that I had to help him, like I would have before…but, and he said that if I didn't—"

"Didn't what?" James asked warily. Lily gave a sob and ducked her head into her knees, holding her arms over her head. James sat up and put an arm around her, hand brushing up and down her arm, trying to comfort her. "Hon, you're okay!"

"I slept with him!" Lily cried out. James' hand stopped and he paused to look at her. Lily's head shot up and she looked at him pleadingly. "I'm sorry! He said, that he'd join if I didn't! But he did anyway and you and I had just started dating and I couldn't tell you!" She hurriedly spoke, tears streamed down her face and her face turned as red as her hair in distress.

"Lily, what?" James sounded shocked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to! It was terrible, I hated it!"

"Lily, Snape raped you?" James asked her, voice trying to sound calm.

"What?" Lily almost shouted, hoarse voice breaking. "No! Of course he didn't, he wouldn't!"

"Lily…he told you he would join the Death Eaters if you didn't sleep with him? He blackmailed you." He sounded incredulous, looking terrified at what had been done to his wife. Lily stopped and her mouth twisted, sobs threatening to burst out.

James quickly pulled Lily into his arms and held her tightly to him, she cried softly into his shoulder. He heard a muffled sound from her.

"Huh?" He asked, pulling back to look at her face, which crumpled even further in emotional pain. Lily's hand came up to grip her hair tightly and her eyes shut, opening after she took a steadying breath.

"Laurel's his." She said flatly, empty eyes staring at the wall behind him.

James just stared at her in disbelief, after a moment one hand came up to cover his mouth and the muffled cry that fell from his lips. He stood from the bed and walked across the room to the door, hands running through his wild hair, then he turned around to pace back to stand in front of the devastated Lily. James held her cheek in his hand and brushed her thick, auburn hair behind her ear. She looked up at him in hope.

"Lily. Laurel is my daughter. It doesn't matter if she's…his _technically_. But, I'm raising her. She's _my daughter_. He doesn't deserve her. She's _ours_." James stressed his words, ending with a deep, defeated breath. Lily's tears continued to flow and she nodded her head up and down quickly, pulling her husband down to sit beside her again.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard." James said firmly and resolutely.

"No, no, no." Lily mumbled, tears clouding her shaky voice. "You can't, James! I don't want you to. You said it yourself, Laurel is your daughter! Our daughter! Just leave it, please." She pleaded softly, looking at James with imploring eyes.

There were a few quiet minutes while the couple stared at each other, then James relented with a short nod. Lily collapsed into his arms, hands fisted into his shirt, as if to physically hold him to her.

Outside the room, Laurel sat cross-legged by the door to their bedroom. She stared at the wall directly opposite to her, with her teeth grinding in anger. How _dare_ that man touch Lily in that way? Touch her mother in that way…

Snape had always been portrayed as a greasy bastard, but to coerce the woman that he supposedly loved into sleeping with him? Laurel was almost as distraught as her mother, learning about how she had come into being from such a deplorable act. If she could, she would wish herself out of existence if it would mean her mother not having that done to her.

Laurel's eyes blinked sleepily a few times, then she stood with determination. Now that the cries coming from the room had ceased, she pushed open the door to her parents' room and entered.

Her face lightened and she gave her best imitation of a comforting, happy smile up to her father who looked down at her.

"Doeface! How's it goin', love?" James put on a brave face and greeted his daughter. _James'_ daughter. He rubbed Lily's back up and down a few times, and she leant back to give him a tired smile.

"Laur, c'mere." Lily turned where she was sitting on the bed and reached her hands down to grab the waddling toddler.

Laurel was sat between Lily and James, Lily's six-month pregnant belly between them as well, and James pulled them both closer towards him.

"I want a cuddle from my girls!" He said, tickling Laurel with one hand and the other arm coming to rest around Lily's shoulders.

"And guy." Lily added with a tilted head and fond smile, hand caressing her pregnant belly. James gave a radiant smile towards her.

"And guy." He said softly, the three of them, Lily's pregnant belly between them, collapsed in a pile in the middle of the bed after James pulled them back with him when he reclined. Both Laurel and Lily squealed in surprise.

"James! I'm six months pregnant, give me a break!" Lily smacked her husband lovingly on the back of the head.


	7. Prophetiae

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Six: Prophetiae [Prophecy]**

 **30 July 1980. 4:02pm**

A tapping noise filled the air, sounding from leather boots as a man's feet fell against the hot pavement. This was a common sound in Godric's Hollow. There were many old folk in that neighbourhood, but none as odd as the old man who went by 'Dumbledore.' Children playing in the playground stopped and waved towards the merry old man, even after many sightings they remained in awe of his beard, so long that it tucked softly into his wide belt.

Dumbledore came to a stop at the corner of 'Chestnut' and 'Darrow', and bent slightly to push the creaking gate open with crooked, spindling fingers. Shutting the gate behind him, he made his way to the dark wooden door and gave a firm press to the doorbell that hung beside it.

Chimes could be heard ringing throughout the house, as well as the familiar shout that followed. Footsteps started and grew louder as they approached the door, it swung open to reveal a man with jet-black hair that almost stood on end and a toddler in his arms that had fluffy black hair hanging around her ears.

"Professor!" James shouted with a wide smile overtaking his face, mirrored by Laurel in his arms. Dumbledore gave him a soft, reserved smile.

"James, may I come in?" Dumbledore got straight to business. James' smile seemed to freeze, but he shook himself out of his stupor and beckoned his old teacher inside.

James knelt down and placed Laurel on her feet, taking her hand to lead her to the first step.

"Upstairs, kiddo. Go hug Mum for me?" Laurel's small head shook violently up and down and she started to make her way up the stairs, it had already been established by James and Lily that their little one knew what she was doing, but she took it one at a time with a hand reaching up to slide along the banister.

James made his way after Dumbledore and sat on the couch across from him, picking up the cup of tea that he assumed Dumbledore had magicked up. Dumbledore gave a sigh and seemed to deflate relative to his usual posture, blue eyes, not their usual twinkling, pierced James' through half-moon glasses.

"Frank and Alice Longbottom had their child early this morning, James. A boy, Neville." Dumbledore told him gravely. James stared back at him, oblivious.

"That's…great!" James said with a hopeful smile, entirely unsure of this sentiment due to Dumbledore's severity.

"I'm sorry, James. But, your son is almost undoubtedly the child of the prophecy, 'born as the seventh month dies'." Dumbledore quoted the prophecy. James gave a huff and sat back into the soft cushions, hands cupping the teacup to finish the drink in one gulp. He sat back up resolutely.

"That's fine. Lils and I will just deal with it. We're here under the Fidelius, no one can know where the house is or get in without our permission, right?" James raised his brow to Dumbledore, who gave a nod in return. "Then, we'll be fine. Just, have to be careful."

Dumbledore continued to look silently towards James, whose eyes seemed unable to make contact, instead darting around the room without settling on anything.

"Sorry, but would you be able to go? I have to talk to Lily." James asked with wide eyes.

"Of course, James." Dumbledore stood from his seat and waved a wand that appeared from seemingly nowhere, vanishing the two empty teacups. James stood as well, startling as Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If you or your family require _anything_ , you need only ask."

James stared after him as he walked towards the door, face dropping into a tired smile. He rubbed his eyes and then after he heard the door open and then shut, James made his way up the stairs to find Lily.

She was found lying in bed, Laurel lying beside her with a book in hand. All that could be seen of Lily was a large, protruding lump in the bed that signified her very pregnant self.

"Lils, that you? Or, did a very large bowling ball find its way into our bed?" James asked with a smile. Lily poked her head around her belly and gave him narrowed eyes and a crinkled nose, gaining a laugh in return.

James walked towards the bed and knelt on the side, falling over a squealing Laurel who we cuddled in his arms as he turned to look at Lily. She looked back at him with concern, folding a dog ear in her book and placing it on the floor beside the bed.

"Who was that at the door?" Lily asked with trepidation. James looked at her with serious eyes, Laurel looked up from where she was in his arms to dart her eyes between them.

"Dumbledore." James said shortly, continuing, "He had some news…Frank and Alice had their baby."

Lily's eyes widened and her brow furrowed in worry. One hand came up to rub at her pregnant belly, she was due any day now.

"But, it's fine, Lils." James reassured her. "We're gonna be fine, the baby's gonna be fine."

A soft sigh came from down around their shoulders as Laurel laid back with an accepting but disappointed look. Of course, she knew that Harry was the child of the prophecy, but it didn't make it any easier.

"What are you sighing for, Honeybug?" James cuddled her closer to him.

Laurel gave a squeak, mumbling only, "Nuttin."

James chuckled at his daughter and looked up to Lily, who he saw had a worried look overtaking her face.

"Hon, everything _will_ be okay." James reiterated, Lily simply gave a nod, reluctant to accept this. She couldn't help but feel that it wouldn't.

 **31 July 1980. 11:13pm**

"Goddamnit, Sirius!" Remus gave a quiet shout as Sirius placed three successive pick-up-4 cards. Sirius gave a bark of laughter and shot a wolfish grin at the glaring Remus.

"No swearing in front of the child, Remus." Sirius said with a mocking glare, gesturing towards Laurel who sat giggling across from him. "Pick up your cards, that's twelve!" He continued with glee.

"I know how to count, Pads!" Remus said exasperatedly as he added the aforementioned cards to his hand.

The two friends were playing Uno together, huddled with Laurel beside them in a waiting room at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, though they were not there for a malady nor an injury. Lily had gone into labour earlier that day and they had been there for hours. Their only respite was a dilapidated set of Muggle Uno cards that they had found in the corner amongst the baby toys. Luckily, Remus knew how to play and he quickly taught Sirius. Now, they were on their thirtieth consecutive game.

"Uno!" Sirius squealed at Remus, who was amused despite himself. Remus shook his head and put down a yellow six on top of its blue friend. Sirius quickly snapped down his last card, a yellow two, and jumped up from his chair. He gave a sharp fist pump into the air and fell back into his seat. "That's 28-2 to me!"

Remus' hand rose to pinch his nose between two fingers and he shook his head in frustration, wondering how his friend had gotten so good at the game he had been introduced to only earlier that day. Beside them, Laurel gave a great chuckle and continued to sway her feet back and forth as they hung below her on the chair.

Suddenly, a sharp squeal came from the hall adjacent to the waiting room, coming closer and closer until the doors burst open to reveal a beaming James.

"I have a son! Harry Potter!" He said proudly. Sirius and Remus jumped up from their chairs with excitement, Sirius immediately rushed over to crush James in a massive hug while Remus picked up Laurel and swung her into his arms. "You'll be the godfather?" James asked Sirius, suddenly very serious.

"What? YES! What? Yes." Sirius scrambled back and forth, nodding emphatically and hugging James even closer to him.

"Mate, I can't breathe!" James' breath whooshed out of him, and Sirius backtracked with a sheepish grin.

"Harry! Ah! My godson…" Sirius began to stare off, his sheepish grin turning wide and ecstatic. Remus came up to them, Laurel in his arms.

"Feels great, doesn't it?" Remus asks Sirius with a tired smile, nodding towards Laurel who looked sleepily up at them. Sirius turned his smile towards Remus and gave a low nod, bringing Remus and Laurel in his arms to him in another hug.

"C'mere, you." Sirius said, pulling James into the group hug. They stood like that for a minute, so happy and excited for the future that they forgot themselves. James finally pulled back and gestured for Remus to give him Laurel.

"Laur, wanna meet your brother?" James asked her, getting a tired nod in reply. Laurel's head dropped to her father's shoulder and he made his way out of the waiting room doors and back the way he had come, waving for his two friends to follow.

After a few twists and turns down wide halls, they came across room 402, located in the maternity ward. James pushed the heavy door and it opened to reveal Lily laying in a hospital bed looking tired, a small bundle held carefully in her arms. Hearing them, her head rose fractionally and she smiled in welcome.

"Hey, you three." Lily said to Sirius, Remus and Laurel, all of whom she had not seen for hours. James strode into the room and leaned down beside his wife's head.

Laurel's head swivelled around, looking down on the baby in her mother's arms. Baby Harry Potter. James placed her on the side of the bed by Lily's head, where she knelt and stared at Harry. Her father left their side after he was sure that Laurel was secure and joined his friends on the side.

"Hey there, Honeybug." Lily greeted her daughter with a soft, tired smile. "This's Harry, your brother."

Laurel gave a soft smile to mirror her mother's and a small hand came up to touch the baby's own wiggling fingers. Tiny fingers curled around her larger hand, causing Laurel's smile to grow.

"Harry." She said, eyes darting around to study her baby brother, noting with a heavy heart the blank, pink forehead that did not yet hold the lightning scar. If Laurel had any say in it, it would never be there.

After a few moments between new siblings, Sirius bustled up to the bed and looked pleadingly towards Lily who have an indulgent nod of assent. He gave a grin and bent down to take the dozing baby from Lily who held him up.

"Careful." Lily warned him, he scoffed in his pride.

"I did alright when Laur was a baby, thank you very much." Sirius cradled the baby to his chest and smiled down at his new godson. "Never have I seen such a handsome young man." There was that pride again.

"Thank you." James said with an almost reverent look towards his son. He turned to his wife and said, "We do make beautiful children, don't we, Lils?"

Lily gave a sigh and pulled Laurel into her arms, cradling her like she had the baby moments before. "Yeah." Lily said looking down at her daughter and then up at her son in Sirius' arms, she couldn't help but agree.


	8. Additamentum

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Seven: Additamentum [Addition]**

 **19 September 1980. 2:15pm**

All was quiet in the Potter house; James and Lily were snuggled on the couch together, each with a book in hand, Laurel was below them at the coffee table, drawing a simply beautiful rendition of a pig sipping tea, and Han the cat was clawing at his own tail in the corner of the room. Suddenly, a piercing cry ripped through the house, and all four pairs of eyes snapped to look upstairs where the cry had originated.

"I love that kid, but why the heck does he cry so much?" James said exasperatedly. "He cries way more than Laurel ever did!"

"Laurel is an oddity, Jamie." Lily explained, bending down to pick the toddler up and cuddle her to her chest, "A lovely, lovely oddity."

James nodded in understanding, then sat his book down to go upstairs to comfort Harry, who had seemingly awoken from his nap. Lily sighed and her arms tightened around Laurel, eyes looking to where James had gone, waiting for him to return with baby Harry.

The squalling began to quiet down and soon James arrived downstairs, the still grumbling Harry cradled in his arms. James gave a tired smile to his wife, who gave a similar smile back.

"Just woke up. Wanted to be with his family, I think." James said. Lily sat up, Laurel sliding off the couch to continue her masterpiece, and held out her arms for her newborn son.

A relieved huff sounded as James threw himself back onto the couch opposite Lily, who was now cradling the upset baby in her arms. With no warning, the squalling returned as Harry's face scrunched up, the noise piercing all of their ears. Han gave a yelp and quickly rose to dart out of the room. A quiet screech came from where he had ran to, signifying that he had left the house to bask in the relative quiet of the backyard.

Laurel looked up at her mother, then her eyes darted to her father. Both looked tired and upset, Lily trying to almost reason with the baby who continued to scream despite her comforting tone and slight rocking. James stood to move beside his wife, also beginning to try to reason with the baby, but to no avail. So, where Laurel sat, she began to think, pink crayon tapping thoughtfully against her cheek. The squalling continued to permeate the room, but despite this distraction she came to a conclusion.

She stood on steady legs and walked over to stand before her parents, who looked up at her with their tired, helpless eyes and gave them some respite with her solution. "Moony?" Laurel suggested.

"What, _Moony_?" James looked panicked and turned to his wife, continuing, "She's forgotten who I am." He turned to his daughter with pleading eyes. "C'mon Doeface, I'm daddy. Moony isn't here right now." Laurel stared back at him with a raised brow and gave a long suffering sigh.

"I'm pretty sure she wants to see Moony?" Lily reasoned. "Yes. Moony, that's it, James. Laurel can spend the day with her godfather." She looked relieved.

"What, why?" James looked confused. Lily gave him a slap on the arm and a pointed look. "Oh, _Moony_. Yes, Laurel, why don't you spend the day with Moony? I mean, _of course_ , we don't want you to go, but if you _have_ to..." James said in an exaggerated tone, trying to be sneaky with Laurel, who he thought to be unaware of their obvious plan to get a few hours to focus on calming the still-squalling Harry.

Laurel's chin dropped to her chest and she shook her head at her father's antics. Her head raised again and she drew out the word, "Okay…"

"Yes!" James shouted with a fist bump into the air. He suddenly realised himself and sat back on the couch arm, a cool expression overtaking his face. "I mean, yes…" James corrected calmly.

Laurel gave a slight giggle and, after Lily's prompting, followed her father up the stairs to pack her bag for the night.

 **Later**

The bell sounded throughout the house and Laurel's head popped up from behind the low coffee table with an excited grin. She stood up and quickly toddled along to the door, small backpack trailing along after her arm. After a few too-short reaches for the doorknob, she waited impatiently for her father to open the door.

James bounded down the stairs, ecstatic for both his friend's arrival and the current lack of screaming from his son. Laurel moved out of the way and James swung the door open, revealing the grinning face of, "Sirius?"

"Yep!" Sirius replied, grin widening even further seeing Laurel's fluffy black haired head poking out from behind James. "Hey Honeybug, excited for your visit?"

Laurel's head bounced up and down, hair floating excitedly through the air, and she moved forward to him before an arm came down to block her path. James had stopped her and was looking at Sirius with suspicion.

"I Floo'd Remus, how come you're here?" He asked.

"Moony sent me to pick her up! I'm crashin' at his place, we're all gonna have a sleepover…it'll be perfect!" Sirius barked a laugh and James' lips turned up in a reluctant smile. His arm lifted and Laurel stepped forward only to be stopped by the arm again. James looked around Sirius, again looking suspicious.

"How'd you get here?"

"On the bike!" Sirius explained. James gave a shudder.

"No! You are _not_ taking Laurel on that death trap!" He said firmly. Sirius groaned and rolled his head back.

"I knew you'd say that." Sirius lamented, coming forward to bypass James' arm and swing Laurel up into his arms. He entered the house and turned back to look back at James. "So…I'll leave the bike here and we'll Floo."

Sirius gave a proud smirk at his compromise and moved through to the living room, setting Laurel down on the floor to pick up the small pot that sat on the fireplace mantle. He shook the small pot, Floo Powder within made a soft, shimmering sound and he grabbed a handful.

James gave an amused shake of his head and followed Sirius, walking over to kneel in front of his smiling daughter.

"You good, Laur?" He asked, pulling at her backpack straps to check that they were secure. She gave a wild nod, and his nose twitched as it was hit with her fluffy hair. James gave a huff and he gave her a quick hug, "Have a good night then. Sweet dreams, Sweetpea."

"Sweet deams, Dad." Laurel replied, patting him slightly on the head and turning to the amused Sirius.

"Yeah, sweet dreams, Jamie." Sirius added, picking up Laurel and stepping into the fireplace. He raised his hand and simply said, "Moony's flat." Sirius through the powder down with a flourish and the two disappeared in a flash of green flames as brilliant Lily's emerald eyes.

 **19 September 1980. 4:02pm**

Elsewhere, there was a similar green blaze of flames as the Sirius stepped out of the fireplace at Moony's flat. He placed Laurel down on the ground with a twirl and bounced off to the next room. Laurel saw that her godfather was sitting quietly in a cushy armchair off to the side of the room and she toddled over to him.

"Hey, Moon." She mumbled with a large smile. Remus looked down at his godfather and his tired smile softened as he placed his book off to the side and reached down to pick her up. Laurel sat on the arm of the chair, feet tapping on Remus' leg as her head came down to rest under his chin.

"Hey there, Laurel." He said softly, with his soothing voice that always brought Laurel such comfort floating into her ears.

"Moony, where's the Jammie Dodgers?" Sirius called from the kitchen.

"Uh, aren't they there?" Remus said hesitantly. Sirius' head popped into the room, eyes glaring at his friend with suspicion.

"Did you eat them all _again_?"

"Whu—no…"

"You did!" Sirius exclaimed with exaggerated disgust. "I just wanted _one_! Remus, how could you do this to me?" He landed with a flourish on the couch opposite the panicked Remus and the giggling Laurel.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. How will you ever forgive me?" Remus said mournfully with a small smile breaking through. Sirius sat up and looked towards them with a mockingly heartbroken expression overtaking his face.

"I just don't think I'll be able to." Sirius whispered harshly. Remus just gave a chuckle and reached over to get a packet from the table beside him, then held them up for Sirius.

Sirius gave an excited squeal and leaped up to snatch the packet from Remus, sitting back down to rip it open with a content smile. He slipped a Jammie Dodger into his mouth and sat back, watching with fondness as Remus and Laurel cuddled on the armchair across from him. This was his family.

 **19 September 1980. 7:33pm**

Hours later, the three remained in the living room. Laurel was now snuggled in the armchair, sans Remus, in her favourite Looney Tunes pyjamas, blinking sleepily at the crackling fireplace with black hair drying around her ears. Meanwhile, Remus was continuing to read his book and Sirius was curled up in his Animagus form in front of the fire, stretching his legs out with a yawn every now and then.

Laurel gave a sniffle and turned her blinking eyes towards a clock that hung on the wall, noting that it was past 7:30, her parentally imposed bedtime. She gave another sniffle and rolled over off the armchair and onto unsteady legs.

"Bed-ine." She said abruptly with her hands held out, causing both Remus and Sirius to look up. Remus looked at the clock, feeling slightly guilty at his immersion into the plot and Sirius just sat his head back down with a content snort.

He rose from the couch and picked Laurel up from under her arms, holding her to him with a steady arm. Remus walked down the short hall and into the bedroom, setting her down on the large bed. Laurel rolled over and picked at the heavy duvet, and at her prompting, Remus helped her tug it down. She wriggled into the empty space and the duvet fell onto her with a huff.

"Story?" Laurel asked with pleading eyes, despite the lack of imagination in children's stories, she had come to think of story time with her parents or their friends with fondness.

Remus gave her a soft smile and a nod, going back out of the room to forage for Laurel's backpack. Laurel lay in the bed with a content smile, small toes wriggling under the cool blanket. She gave another reluctant yawn, tired despite herself, as she was every night.

The door squeaked open once more as Remus entered the room again, Padfoot shuffling in behind him, still in dog form. Remus sat with the backpack on the bed, shuffling through it to find Laurel's selection of books and Sirius jumped up on the bed, bounding over to wiggle under Laurel's arm. Laurel's nose scrunched up as Sirius gave her ear an affectionate lick, and she struggled away with a giggle.

"Charlotte's Web, or Red Fish Blue Fish?" Remus asked Laurel, holding the two books up for her perusal. Laurel's eyes studied the two with thought, mouth pulled to the side.

"Chardotte." She said decisively. Sirius wagged his tail and snuggled deeper into Laurel's side as Remus climbed up onto the bed beside them, opening the book to the dog-eared page.

" _Next morning when the first light came into the sky and the sparrows stirred in the trees_ ," He started, looking down at both Laurel and Sirius with a fond smile as they listened intently to the story. This was his family.


	9. Dubium

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Eight: Dubium [Doubtful]**

 **5 February 1981. 7:31pm**

With Laurel and Harry upstairs, both asleep in their respective beds, James and Lily had a moment of peace. They were huddled together on the couch, snuggling as two married persons are wont to do.

Predictably, a sharp flash and a whoosh interrupted them. Both stared blankly up at the fireplace, where Sirius had Floo'd into the room. He stared back at them with wide eyes, seemingly not expecting an immediate audience.

"Lils, James, Moony's been given an assignment!" He almost shouted, lunging to the side to throw himself in a faint on the nearest couch.

"An assignment." James repeated.

"Shut up, you moron! We just put the kids to bed!" Lily said in a harsh whisper, vicariously smacking her husband on the shoulder. James startled indignantly and looked at his wife with wide eyes. Sirius was laying on the couch facing towards its back, he glanced over his shoulder and mumbled an apology.

"That's fine." Lily sighed, continuing, "Now, what assignment did Remus get, exactly?" Sirius wiggled around to face his friends and gave them sad eyes.

"A secret mission. From Dumbledore, apparently." Sirius bemoaned, receiving more blank looks from Lily and James.

"And…" James prompted. Sirius tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"And he won't tell me what it is." He informed them, "And, he'll be gone for six months!"

"Oh, well if Remus accepted the mission, then it must have been worth the time away." Lily reasoned. Sirius just gave another lamenting moan.

"Dumbledore should just give it to someone else…" Sirius trailed off.

"Maybe only Remus can do it?" Lily suggested. Sirius sat up and looked over to them with worried eyes.

"Do you think it could be something to do with him being a werewolf?" Sirius asked uncertainly. James furrowed his brow and looked down at his hands that were clasping on his lap.

"Voldemort has been recruiting dark creatures…" He said with reluctance. Sirius startled and looked at him with disbelieving eyes.

"Remus isn't a dark creature! James, what are you—?"

"I'm not saying that Remus is a dark creature, but…when he changes, he doesn't exactly have a choice in what the wolf does." James interrupted. "Were you there when Dumbledore gave him the mission?"

"Well, no. He just came home and told me a minute ago, then he packed and left." Sirius said with trepidation, lines on his brow growing deeper.

"What if he didn't get the mission from Dumbledore? What if…he's mixed in with a bad crowd?" James tightened his hand around Lily's. "I mean, as Moony, he wouldn't have a choice if he came across some nastier werewolves and decided to join them."

"Are you saying that Remus' wolf might be in league with Voldemort?" Lily asked with a high voice, disbelieving. James' head fell into his hands.

"No." He said shortly, with a tightened jaw. "I'm just saying that he could be."

Sirius sat back into the couch, looking scared and dejected at the prospect.

"Maybe," James started, "Maybe we should be more careful about Harry, about who knows where he is."

"How do you mean?" Lily asked sadly. James looked up to the ceiling, begging for some epiphany or previously unearthed insight. Suddenly, his eyes sparked with an idea.

"We could change the secret keeper." He said with vigour.

"What, why?" Sirius questioned indignantly.

"Well, everyone who's met us knows we would trust each other with our lives, that I would trust you implicitly with my son's life." James gestured emphatically, getting a confused but accepting nod from Sirius. "So, who are they gonna target if they want to know our location? Who is the person that would most obviously be my secret keeper?"

"You, Sirius!" Lily realised, then her face dropped in worry. "What should we do then?" She looked towards her husband with determination.

"Change our secret keeper. To someone that no one would suspect." He gave a quick smirk, decidedly pleased at his own brilliance.

 **10 April 1981. 10:09am**

Two months later, Lily, James and Sirius were once again in the homely living room of Potter Cottage. However, this time they were also joined by their friend Peter Pettigrew, as well as James and Lily's two children. Peter sat meekly in an armchair that was placed haphazardly in the corner of the room, while James, Sirius and Lily sat on a single couch opposite, looking back at his nervous expression with serious faces.

"Pete, we want you to be our new secret keeper." James said firmly. Peter immediately paled and his hands began tremoring where they were clasped in his lap.

"Wh-why would you want to do that?" Peter asked with his quiet, shaky voice. James leaned forward where he sat and pierced his friend with his eyes.

"Everyone would expect me to choose Sirius, as I already have. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are likely to target Sirius if they want to get to us, and if they tortured him…he could tell them where we are." James paused and looked towards his friend with concern, seeing that Sirius was just looking down blankly, he continued, "If we make you secret keeper instead, there'll be next to no chance of our location becoming known. No one would expect it to be you, Pete. If we make you secret keeper, we'll all be safe."

Peter continued to tremble, and his brow furrowed in thought. James and Lily continued to look pleadingly at him, until suddenly his eyes widened minutely. His eyes darted towards them and he gave a short nod. James let out a huge sigh of relief and stood, walking over to Peter and lending a hand to bring him into a grateful hug.

"Thank you so much, Peter." Lily spoke from where she sat on the couch, looking down at her children.

Harry was standing, leaning his weight against his mother's crossed leg, smiling up at her with a dopey grin. Lily's smile widened and she leant down, picking up the gurgling baby who began tugging on her hair. She looked down to Laurel, but saw that her young daughter was sitting cross-legged on the floor near Lily's feet, brow furrowed in a troubled expression not befitting of a toddler.

"We've uh—," Lily paused, glancing again at her daughter concernedly. "We've made arrangements for Dumbledore to recast the spell, making you secret keeper, Peter." Peter gave a shaky nod and both Lily and James gave sighs of relief at the confirmation.

"I still don't think you should do it." Sirius said quietly from where he sat, eyes still trained on the floor in front of him. James turned and looked at his best friend with hard eyes.

"Well, it's not your decision, Sirius." He replied firmly, it was obvious that Sirius' argument had been heard many times before.

"I can take anything that they throw at me Jamesy!" Sirius looked up to him beseechingly. "I would _never_ betray you." He emphasised. James gave a tired sigh and ran his hands through his messy dark hair.

"I'm sorry, Pads…I just can't take that chance." James sat back on the couch next to Lily, grabbing her hand between his. He shared a sombre glance with her. "Not with our son's life."

A huff of air escaped Sirius' mouth and his eyes hardened, looking back to the ground, he said nothing further. Beneath them, Laurel sat deflated. If Lily and James wouldn't listen to their best friend, why on Earth would they listen to a toddler? Her fingers plucked at the carpet nervously, hands tightening on loose strands.

"Alright, love?" Lily's soft voice asked after Laurel. She looked up at her mother's scared and tired face, then finally gave a distant nod and a quiet hum, hands twisting on the floor beside her.

 **30 July 1981. 10:17am**

Longbottom manor was bustling with life, dank and dark halls filling with the light of children's laughter. Tiny footsteps echoed, followed swiftly by the heavier footsteps of Augusta Longbottom. It was her grandson's first birthday, and it seemed that every magical child this side of the English Channel was in attendance.

"Slow down inside!" She shouted hoarsely after the giggling children, futilely shaking a bony finger after them.

"Mum, let them play." Augusta turned to see her son, Frank, looking after the runaway children with a fond smile, the aforementioned birthday boy snuggled in his arms.

"Honestly, Frank, children these days need some _discipline_. Neville certainly won't be running down halls and flying brooms inside!" Augusta said with severity, looking at Neville with pursed lips.

"Yes he certainly will, Mum." Frank sung with a smirk, whisking his giggling son through the air as he made his way to where the majority of the noise was originating.

Muffled sounds grew loud and obnoxious as he nudged the door to the vast dining hall open, most of the kids and their parents gathered around the table. All at once, after Frank's prompting, they began to sing _Happy Birthday_ to Neville, as he plonked the boy in his high chair at the end of the long table. Frank sung loudly and enthusiastically in his admittedly poor voice, wrapping an arm around his widely smiling wife, ruffling her short hair with a fond glance at his family.

Alice ducked away from her husband with a wrinkled nose and her smile widened, cheering with the others as the song finished and the kids surrounding Neville collectively drew their breaths to blow out the candle. And, it went out with no prompt. There was a light giggle from the baby Neville as his hands waved in the air, and the people surrounding him followed his example, noting the open window behind him as the likely cause.

"Love you, Nev." Alice said, cheeks glowing as she kissed her newly turned son on his forehead. She looked back at her husband and shared a smile with him, feeling undeniably grateful for her beautiful family.

 **31 July 1981. 3:04pm**

Elsewhere, one day later at the Potter's, there was another young boy turning one year old. However, it was a quieter affair, the seven people in attendance gathered around a smaller table. Alike the previous day, the birthday boy was wiggling in his highchair, hands waving around and a dopey grin overtaking his face.

Harry's sister Laurel was kneeling on a chair beside him, head resting on crossed arms and a fond smile directed towards his regular antics. He had found particular enjoyment in his birthday song, and was now even more excited for the cake that had been placed in front of him by his reluctant mother.

"I just know he's going to get it everywhere…" Lily lamented with an indulgent smile. As if he had heard her, Harry immediately planted a wiggling hand into the cake, grabbed a chunk, and smashed it into his own face. "Oh, _God_. I told you so." She shook her head fondly and stood to go get a wet cloth.

"He's having fun, Lils. And look, he thinks it's delicious." Sirius reasoned, looking at the wide grin that Harry had on his blue-stained face while he was chewing the cake that had made it into his mouth.

"Gross." Laurel added with a smirk and a crinkled nose, eating her own cake in smaller portions. Baby Harry turned his smile towards his sister and began to babble, all the while eating the bright blue cake. She just rolled her eyes heavenwards and her face fell into her palm. Laurel's eyes widened between her fingers as she noticed the stickiness and blue tinge to them.

She pulled her sticky hand away to see her father and his three friends laughing freely at the pair of them. Harry with his coat of blue cake on his face, and Laurel with her stark blue handprint on her face. Laurel let loose a groan as her head dropped softly to the table, smothering her reluctantly amused smile into the wood. Lily came back in the room and Laurel's face turned towards her, Lily let loose a snort and wordlessly turned back to get another cloth. Her shoulders shook as she gave a giggle, looking up to see the adults in the room simply beside themselves with laughter.

"What are we gonna do with you two?" James asked his messy children rhetorically, giving the closest to him, Harry, a kiss on his downy, black hair, artfully dodging the blue mess that had managed to stick there.

Laurel smiled at the pair of them, glad that she could share in this brief moment of joy with her family.


	10. Damnum

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Chapter Nine: Damnum [Loss]**

 **28 October 1981. 11:47pm**

It was the dead of night and all was quiet, save the low swoop of the wind rustling through trees. There was a whisper as a man's robe, dark as the night surrounding him, shuddered in the wind. Red eyes that almost glowed blinked slowly in the darkness under the man's hood, focusing on the other man that grovelled at his feet.

There was a sharp red flash and the snivelling man on the forest bed gave a high, continuous shriek. With a disgusted smirk, the tall, hooded man ceased the crackling spell and kicked the other man away from his feet.

"Pathetic." A smooth, quiet voice slithered from his lips. The man on the floor curled in on himself and gave a weak, stuttering nod of agreement. "You agree?" An amused inflection lightened his tone. The nodding increased in fervour. Red eyes rolled skyward and his wand pointed once more at the man.

"'Potter Cottage, the corner of Chestnut and Darrow, Godric's Hollow'." The man sneered at the plebeian names, "And why should I believe you? Peter Pettigrew, supposed to be a friend to the Potters. Are you not?" The snivelling man, Peter, looked up, his eyes focused somewhere between the other's face and the ground.

"My L—Lord…it would be, _foolish_ , of me to oppose you." Peter squeaked from where he knelt, leaves on the ground rustling as he shook. Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed in amusement at his fear, the air was sour with it.

"You would betray…" Voldemort's head tipped back in search of some elusive phrase, "Dumbledore and his Order, in fear of me?" His silken voice caused Peter's shaking to increase, he was now almost convulsing in his fear.

"Y—yes, m—my Lord." He stuttered, voice high and choked. A deep and harsh cackle filled the air, Peter froze and a shuddering breath escaped him, the hair on his arms raising at the sound.

"Of course you would." Voldemort sneered down his nose at the cowardice of Peter Pettigrew, sounding almost disappointed at his weakness.

 **31 October 1981. 11:12pm**

At Potter Cottage, upstairs in her small bed, Laurel Potter lay facing the wall. Tears streamed down ruddy cheeks as her chest palpitated with heavy, uneven breaths. Downstairs she could hear the incoherent mumbling and loud giggles of her younger brother, Harry, and the accompanying gleeful shouts from James, this caused her tears to flow even more readily.

Tonight was the night. The night that the Potters died. The night that Lily and James were killed by the heartless Voldemort. The night that Laurel failed.

She had done all she could, but who would believe an apparent three year old? Her parents, her _beautiful_ parents, whom she loved with all of her heart, despite their loveliness, dismissed Laurel's ramblings as childish disillusionment.

Of course they were safe, they had taken measures to be so safe. Peter was their secret keeper, their _secret_ secret keeper. But, of course, they were blind to the strength of power over the weak. James and Lily, so noble, would never think it possible to betray a loved one in the interest of survival. They were not Peter Pettigrew.

So, Laurel, exiled to her bedroom, closed her eyes and waited for death. Hours later, sometime after her drowsy eyes had fluttered to a close, a loud bang sounded from downstairs.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" The shout from her father came from downstairs. Laurel's eyes snapped open and she sat up in her bed, blinking at the darkness around her. She could hear her mother running up the stairs, feet thumping on the carpet, and baby Harry whimpering along the way. A bright green flash filled the room, creeping in through the gap at the bottom of the door.

Laurel whimpered, that was undoubtedly the Killing curse. A heavy thud sounded and the door burst open, revealing Lily with her arms held tight around Harry. Laurel scrambled out from under her duvet and fell to the ground, running to her mother who swooped her up and backed into the corner of the room, away from the door now closed door. Harry was quickly placed in his crib, and Lily stood in front with her back to it, shielding Harry with her body and Laurel with a protective arm slung low around her.

The door flew open and hit the wall with another bang, revealing the tall, dark cloaked man. Voldemort had come for Harry, just as Laurel knew he would. And she hadn't stopped it. A low whimper escaped her as she brought her arms over her head and cowered from the dreaded Dark Lord. Cackling laughter filled the room, emanating off the walls and resonating deep in Laurel's head.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily begged from where she stood, her fingers tightened around Laurel whose heart broke at her mother's pain and stuttered in her fear for her family.

"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside now." Voldemort's voice slithered through the air and a shudder wracked through Laurel's body.

"No…" She managed from where she knelt, frozen in her fear.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead. Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy—" Laurel heard her mother beg and beg, until moments later she could see a bright green flash through the gaps in her fingers. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she gave a quiet whimper.

"Move, girl." The slithering voice sounded again, accompanied with a sharp pain and a jolting movement. Voldemort had kicked Laurel from where she knelt by Harry's crib, she curled into herself in the corner of the room, in pain and trying to catch a breath that just wouldn't come.

Tears continued to stream from her eyes, Laurel opened them to see Voldemort standing before the confused Harry in the crib, and she looked down to see her mother's lifeless eyes staring back at her. Laurel's eyes closed tightly again. There was a huff of laughter, and a second green flash. Then everything went dark.

 **1 November 1981. 1:02am**

A rumble sounded in the air, and Sirius Black pealed around a street corner on his motorcycle, not flying at the moment, and reached his destination in Godric's Hollow. He quickly stopped the bike and stumbled off of it, and rushed towards Potter Cottage, hands tremoring and fingers twitching as he soon stood before it. What was once a lovely and quaint home for the Potters, was now a demolished and dismantled wreck.

There was a large hole, obviously blasted from a spell, which opened the Cottage up to prying eyes. Sirius immediately saw that the blast had been in the children's room, in Laurel and Harry's room. A shaky breath stuttered from his throat and his shaky hands pushed the rickety gate open. Upon reaching the front door, Sirius realised that it was already open, hanging off its hinges. Pressing a clammy hand to the wood, he pushed it further, and his eyes darted down to see James lying there.

"No! Fuck—!" Sirius exclaimed, voice weak and wavering with his heartbreak. James' eyes were wide and staring, brow lightly furrowed in death. Sirius fell against the door and slid down, hands gripping fruitlessly at the sides. Shaking hands came up to run through his hair, eyes remaining fixed on his best friend. His dead best friend. A sob wracked his throat and he closed his eyes firmly.

"Sirius?" A booming voice, yet quiet for this particular man, sounded from above him. Sirius startled with a sob and his head knocked back against the door, above him he could see Hagrid standing just outside the door.

"Hagrid, what happened?" Sirius managed, standing on shaking legs and starting forward towards the Hogwarts Groundskeeper. Hagrid's warm, black eyes shined with tears, which dropped and slid down into his bushy, auburn beard.

"Lily and James're gone." He said shortly. "You-Know-Who." Sirius wavered where he stood.

"Wh—What about the kids, Harry and Laurel?" Sirius looked up, small hope shining through in his expression.

"They're alrigh', jus' here." Hagrid nodded down at the two, whom he had placed down upon seeing Sirius in the doorway. Sirius' face dropped in a silent cry and he bent down to get closer to them.

Laurel sat against the wall with a wince on her face, a purple bruise already shining on her chin and cheek, as she held the bundled Harry against her chest. She could barely manage to keep him to her, but refused to let go after Hagrid had sat them there.

"Lovebug, you okay?" Sirius whispered, one hand lightly hovering over Laurel's fluffy black hair, and another over Harry's. He gave a nervous huff of air out of his nose as his fingers skimmed the bruise on Laurel's face, asking after it. She just gave a nod, bottom lip wobbling as tears grew in her eyes again. Sirius nodded in understanding and his eyes dropped to the baby, just then noticing the new cut on his forehead. Drops of blood were dried on the skin around the lightning-bolt shaped cut, Sirius shuddered at it but, seeing that Harry was otherwise not bothered and sleeping, decided that it must not hurt to terribly.

He bent to wrap his arms around the two, to pick them both up, but was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder. Sirius looked up in confusion, and saw Hagrid looking down at him sadly but firmly.

"'Fraid you can't do tha', Sirius." Sirius just looked up at him blankly.

"Wh—?"

"Professor Dumbledore gave me an order, have ta bring young Harry to…well, I have ta take him somewhere safe."

Sirius just knelt there, still with confusion.

"What, why? I'm his godfather. He's safe with me." Sirius stood and set hard eyes on Hagrid, defensive of his position. Hagrid simply pushed Sirius softly aside and bent down, picking up the two children, one held to his great coat with each hand. He turned to leave, but was stopped with a pleading hand on his shoulder.

"Wait, no…what about Laurel?" Sirius looked at Hagrid with begging eyes. Hagrid pursed his lips in thought. "Please. Dumbledore didn't say anything about her?"

"Well, no." Hagrid conceded.

"Then, you take Harry…keep him safe…I'll take Laurel, to her godfather, to Remus." Sirius' fingers tightened on Hagrid's leather coat, only loosening when Hagrid gave a reluctant nod. Sirius momentarily slumped in relief, then held his arms out for Hagrid to place the quiet toddler into them.

After Laurel had been passed to him, she rested her head on his shoulder, arms tight around him and fingers buried in his shirt. Her eyes looked blankly into the distance, and her stomach tightened in upset. Her parents were dead. Dumbledore was taking her baby brother away from her. Hagrid turned to leave once more, stopped again by Sirius' urging.

"Wait!" Sirius exclaimed, Hagrid looked at him expectantly. "Take my bike, it flies…it'll get you two safely to…wherever you have to go." He looked up at the towering half-giant expectantly, who once again relented. Sirius led Hagrid to his flying motorcycle, and soon he was off with a rumble, baby safely tucked into his side.

Sirius' arms tightened around Laurel, whose own arms tightened around him, and he set off down the street to where a crowd of Muggles had already gathered. He pushed his way through them, not stopping until he had breached through to the other side.

"Sirius!" Sirius heard a shout, and turned to see Remus rushing towards him and Laurel. His face crumpled and he fell into his friend's arms with a sob. "Sirius, what's happened? Why does Laurel have a bruise on her face?" Remus questioned him frantically, "No one's told me anything…" Sirius just shook his head and his eyes grew hard. He pushed Laurel into Remus' arms and started further down the street.

"Sirius?" Remus' voice called after him.

He turned around to see Remus looking at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes. Sirius simply shook his head softly and carried on walking down the street. Back where he had left them, Remus stared after him, still concerned. In his arms, Laurel stirred with a sob, causing Remus to cuddle her closer to him and bury his face in her hair. His eyes closed softly and his brow furrowed further. He just knew that something was wrong.


	11. Epilogue: Familia

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part One: Renascentia [Rebirth]**

 **Epilogue: Familia [Family]**

 **1 November 1981. 3:17pm**

Remus Lupin sat across from Albus Dumbledore, eyes closed tightly in upset. Dumbledore looked at him from behind his desk, sympathetic to the young man, who now looked even more haggard than he had in all of his schooling. Dark circles lined his eyes, grey was sprinkled throughout tawny brown hair, and he was slumped over the tiny, sleeping girl in his arms.

"Harry is—" Remus startled with a soft, hoarse voice.

"With his aunt and uncle." Dumbledore repeated firmly, soft blue eyes losing their ordinary twinkle at the bare signs of resistance from Remus.

"But—"

" _Where he_ will be safe." Dumbledore had almost forgotten himself, strong voice dissipating into his usual, calming tone. Remus looked up at him with helplessness, arms tightening around Laurel and bringing her closer to his chest.

"And Laurel?" Remus said weakly, feeling that he already knew what Dumbledore had planned for her.

"As her godfather…you were to have legal guardianship in the event that James and Lily pass." Dumbledore sounded reluctant, lips pursing almost imperceptivity. Remus' head nodded down, asking Dumbledore to continue. "And I see no reason to contradict this."

Remus took a sharp breath, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes in relief, slightly shaking fingers moving soothingly across Laurel's back which rose and fell softly in her slumber. He bent down and pressed his lips against Laurel's soft hair for a second, then leaned back to stare into Dumbledore's serious eyes once more, smoothing Laurel's hair from her face.

"I'll keep her?" Remus asked to confirm, Dumbledore simply nodding in return and giving a reluctantly fond smile towards the pair.

"Of course, there will have to be certain measures…the Fidelius Charm, etcetera…" Dumbledore sighed and looked down, one mangled hand running its fingers through his long, white beard. He paused and his hand stuttered in thought, then he looked back at the saddened Remus, giving a soft smile and continuing, "But there will be time for that later. You should, return home with your new charge. Get some rest."

Remus nodded slightly, and stood with Dumbledore. He maneuvered around the room with the sniffling Laurel in his arms, taking the preferred Floo Powder and approaching the ornate fireplace. Remus ducked his head under the sweeping, gold-laced trim, and turned in place. He raised his arm in preparation for the throw, adjusting Laurel one more time to hold her tightly, and threw the powder down, firmly saying "Moony's Flat."

 **1 November 1981. 3:42pm**

Remus appeared in the fireplace of his flat, stepped out. Ashy smudges from his shoes tracked their way to Remus' bedroom, where he laid the sleeping Laurel under the covers. Her nose scrunched in upset, fingers twisting nervously in the duvet. Remus shushed her and tucked the blankets firmly around her, after she settled he left the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

Ambling over to the kitchen, Remus looked around the bare room and his eyes landed on the kettle. His shoulders gave a slight shrug and he reached over and clicked the kettle on; when in doubt, make tea.

Around a minute later, Remus was sitting deflated in his armchair, hot cup of tea in hand. He stared tiredly at nothing, hand coming up incrementally to take a sip.

Never, since his first day at Hogwarts, had Remus felt so alone. It had always felt depressing inevitable to Remus that this would happen, that he would lose the people that he had come to love. Yet it was still a shock. That he had lost James, Lily, Peter…Sirius. Remus could only that whatever higher power that would listen for Laurel remaining. If he had lost his goddaughter…but, he did not want to think of that.

Remus set his half-full teacup on the table next to him, and placed his head in his hands, fingers scrunched tight in his greying hair. A sharp inhale escaped him, and his head turned to the side with eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Moony?" His head snapped up at the quiet voice, breath catching on the start of a sob.

"Laurel!" Remus managed a half-smile around the choked exclamation, holding out a beckoning hand. Laurel stood still for a second, staring at him with eyes that he suddenly decided were much too old for her, his teeth clenched to subdue any probable outburst. She returned his smile with a small one of her own, and slowly walked until she fell into his arms, and he brought her up to cuddle on his lap. "Alright there?" He asked quietly, looking down at her troubled face. Her eyes looked down and her brow furrowed deeply.

"I'm sorry." Laurel managed, burrowing her head into Remus' side. He brought his hand to her head and rested it against the back of it. Remus looked down at her with tired confusion.

"What're you talking about, Laur?"

"S'my faul'." Laurel mumbled into Remus' sweater. His brow furrowed further and his eyes hardened with regret for what she had been through. Remus did not know why the three-year-old in his arms would think that she had anything to do with what happened to her parents, but at the same time he knew that she meant nothing else. He tilted her back so that she looked up at him, her eyes blinking away tears.

"Don't you say that, 'bug. Course it wasn't your fault." Remus' heart clenched in his chest and he took a shaky breath. Laurel looked up at him with such resolve, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to take that thought away from her. To make it so she never blamed herself for something so impossibly out of her hands. "You just go to sleep. I'm here." Remus soothed a hand over her back and Laurel relented, closing tired eyes and sinking into him from exhaustion.

Remus looked down at the tiny, sleeping girl in his arms, at her downy, black hair and ruddy, upset cheeks. His goddaughter, his family. Remus had lost his best friends, his…Sirius. There was one thing that Remus knew absolutely about his future, that he would protect and love this girl with all that he had.

 ****Thanks so much for reading :)) dw story will continue next week with part two in next chap**


	12. Prologue: Resistebat

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Prologue: Resistebat [Resistance]**

 **3 February 1983. 11:33am**

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his heavy, dark wooden desk and reclined back in his chair with a sigh. He stood from his chair and walked slowly to a side chamber and his eyes glanced upwards at the wall in front of him which held hundreds of elaborate portraits, each one being an image of a previous Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Phineas." His wizened voice flowed through the room and startled the aforementioned man out of his sleep. Warm brush strokes slithered as the painted man moved where he sat. An ugly sneer erupted on Phineas' face as he looked down at Dumbledore.

"What is it fool? I have better things to do than to listen to an old man's trivialities." Phineas' sneer lowered into a smug smirk. Dumbledore simply gave the painting a patient smile in return.

"Your advice has not worked." Dumbledore relented.

"Oh, my advice…which advice might this be?" Phineas stared at the man with cold eyes.

"Sending…young Harry Potter to his aunt and uncle."

"Who? Oh, you mean the _Muggles_." Phineas sneered the word, disgust flickering over his features.

"You predicted that there would not be resistance, that my influence might dissuade certain individuals from protesting." Dumbledore started. "Remus Lupin approached me last night, wondered why exactly it was required that Harry be sent to his Muggle relatives." Phineas just waved a hand urging Dumbledore to elaborate. "He made a scene, began shouting…it seems that young Laurel Potter had demanded to see her brother."

"And this is my problem because…?" Phineas narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in his chair.

"Because I can't seem to glean a reason why their request should be denied…why it is anything other than cruel to completely separate the two. If Laurel Potter and her adoptive father meet with the Dursleys and young Harry, they're sure to protest his extended stay with them."

"Why exactly—?"

"They're horrible people, Phineas." Dumbledore said gravely. Phineas gave a dark chuckle.

"Well, I could've told you that!"

" _Not_...because they are muggles…I've been past their home, kept an eye on Harry. They treat him so horribly." Dumbledore lowered his head in shame, voice growing weak with guilt.

"Then…re-evaluate." Phineas offered, at Dumbledore's pleading look he elaborated, "The plan did not work, Harry cannot be left with those _disgusting_ …" At Dumbledore's sharp look Phineas tapered off, "Muggles. The _plan_ was to have him in an unforgiving environment, to swoop him up as his saviour and ensure undying loyalty…is this entirely unachievable with Harry under the werewolf's control?" Dumbledore furrowed his brow and he paced a few steps, deep in thought.

"It is not…entirely unmanageable." Dumbledore noted lightly. "The only rebellion young Remus has shown was in this instance concerning Harry. If I allow them to visit Harry, then _I_ shall be _made aware_ of the conditions that he has lived in for the past year and a half, and custody will be transferred to Remus." Dumbledore eyes glanced up thoughtfully to Phineas in his portrait, whose smug smirk had returned.

"Then he and his daughter shall be _forever_ in your debt for returning their precious _golden_ child to them." Phineas' portrait drawled. Dumbledore's brow furrowed once more and he pursed his lips, troubled. He turned his back on the portrait and returned to his desk, sitting with a heavy sigh. Crooked fingers tapped an unknown tune on the dark wood of the desk, then he gave a slight but decisive nod. Laurel Potter's demand would be heard.


	13. Monstraj

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Chapter One: Monstraj [Monsters]**

 **5 February 1983. 2:16pm**

Laurel blinked the rare sun out of her eyes as she knelt by the water, holding the crust of a demolished peanut butter sandwich out to the ducks that swam around leisurely in front of her, trying to entice the coy ducks towards her. She brought it back to her and tore a piece of, throwing it into the group, they all scrambled to get it. A soft smile overtook her face as she remembered why she was there. Laurel stood up and dusted the front of her dress off, then rushed back a few metres to where Remus was sitting on a bench. They were in London, Hyde Park to be exact, and looked out over the vast Serpentine from their vantage on the bench.

Remus and Laurel weren't there for just any reason, but for the very reason that Dumbledore had been fond of the park for years. So, it was Hyde Park that was to be their meeting place; Laurel and Remus were going to see Harry that afternoon.

"Harry's coming home." Laurel mumbled, smiling up at Remus whose forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"We're…going, for a visit?" Remus tried to correct her.

"Uh-uh." She said with a sad smile, knowing that as soon as Remus met the Dursleys, he would never leave baby Harry with those monsters. Remus didn't relent in his concern, so Laurel just shook her head lightly and continued, "We'll see…" Before Remus could respond, their company arrived.

The familiar clicking heels of Dumbledore's buckled shoes sounded from behind them, Laurel turned to see the famed Professor Dumbledore smiling down at the two in greeting. And, he looked exactly as she had expected him to…dusky purple velvet, pinstriped suit, bright blue, star-speckled tie poking out from around his long, white beard, a Yankees baseball cap perched precariously on his long white-haired head. Laurel did not know why exactly wizards were unable to dress conspicuously in Muggle settings, but, if the menagerie at Diagon Alley was any tell, the problem was largely universal.

"Remus, and Laurel! Good afternoon!" Dumbledore welcomed them, Remus and Laurel both stood from the bench and Remus shook Dumbledore's outstretched hand. "And how has your Saturday been?" He queried.

"Ah, uneventful…excited to see Harry." Remus hinted with a dry, slightly insincere at Dumbledore, who paused and gave a short nod.

"Yes, yes. Of course." Dumbledore mumbled, then beckoned the two to follow him to the nearby boathouse. He pushed open a creaking door, and the three entered. "Away from, prying eyes…Remus, if you would take my arm, and give Laurel yours." Dumbledore said shortly, gripping Remus' arm when it was given.

"Hold on tight." Remus said to Laurel, and she grasped his hand tightly.

Suddenly, they disappeared with a crack from the boathouse, and Laurel felt the very unsettling sensation of her body being squeezing through a too-small tube, as if an unseen force was pressing down on her chest. A second later the three reappeared some forty kilometres away in Little Whinging, Surrey. Laurel took a deep, sharp breath, Remus held her hand tightly in concern, the other hovering over her back.

"I didn't like that." She mumbled somewhat redundantly, Remus shot her an understanding smile when she looked up at him. After a few breathless seconds the three made their way down the street, which Laurel noted was named _Wisteria Walk_ by the street sign on the corner. After turning down an alley they came out on _Magnolia Crescent_ and, eventually turned a few corners to reach the infamous _Privet Drive_. Laurel's eyes scrutinised the street sign on the corner and the pavement below, recognising it as where Professor McGonagall was supposed to have sat in her Animagus form the day that Harry was taken here, but shook her head of the thought.

She turned her attention to the house; just as described they were entirely uniform and monotonous, regardless of dreadful parenting she would not want her baby brother to grow up in such an unimaginative and entirely ordinary street. Dumbledore, Remus and Laurel walked past one, two and three, and came to a stop before number four.

Laurel walked ahead of her companions, up the pavement and to the front door. Her little fist knocked thrice resolutely, then above her Remus also knocked thrice with an amused and fond smile directed at her too soft knocks.

Promptly, the door was pulled open a fraction to reveal the pale, narrowed eyes of Petunia Dursley, which quickly widened with fright at the sight of the oddly dressed trio, and she began to push the door closed. Remus' hand landed firmly on the wood and he stopped the door from closing.

"Petunia Dursley?" Remus said with reluctance, having heard not-so-flattering tales of Lily's sister from Lily herself. The door swung open reluctantly as the woman before them pursed her lips and seemed to accept her fate.

"Doubledoor?" She sneered, eyes piercing Dumbledore's with surprising hatred, the man just gave a hearty chuckle in return.

"Albus _Dumbledore_ , Mrs Dursley! It's been a long time, since we last met, just after dear Lily was off to her first year at Hogwarts, yes?" Petunia's sneer grew at hearing her sister's name said with such fondness.

"We've come for Harry!" Laurel said decisively, narrowing her eyes up at the tall, unpleasant woman. Petunia looked down and seemed to notice Laurel for the first time. She paused with a furrowed brow for a moment.

"You're…the other one?" She managed.

"Yes, I am the other one, thank you very much." Laurel rolled her eyes not-so-inconspicuously at the woman's redundancy. "Now, give us Harry!"

"Ah," Remus placed a steadying hand on Laurel's shoulder to quiet her and continued, "Mrs Dursley, if we could just visit with Harry for a time?" Petunia seemed to deflate.

"You mean you're not here to take the boy as the girl said?"

"Ah…" Remus tried to begin.

"Nevermind, in!" Petunia ushered the trio into her home, beady eyes scanning the street for any potential onlookers; she couldn't believe that she had had the freaks visible in her front yard for that long.

She directed them with an outstretched arm into the adjacent living room, where they sat on the couches there: patterned with sickeningly pink and white flowers. From the hall Laurel heard a small creak as the door under the stairs was opened, she was suddenly struck by just how cruel these people were, she hadn't been sure until now that they had kept him in there for his entire childhood.

Petunia soon re-entered the room, this time with a black-haired toddler held away from her body with her hands under his armpits. Despite this cruel treatment, Harry seemed content, he looked around the room with fascination, tiny fingers and toes wiggling in excitement. Petunia promptly gave the baby to Remus who, like Laurel beside him, were transfixed at the sight of Harry after not seeing him for almost a year and a half.

"Harry!" Laurel cooed at her baby brother, his head lolled so that he faced her and a wide grin overtook his face, one hand jumped and smacked Laurel lightly on her cheek as Harry giggled at her. Laurel's heart felt as if it were about to burst, she had been so afraid that he wouldn't recognise her, but Harry seemed to at least know her face.

Above the two reconnecting siblings, Remus was in deep thought. Upon meeting the woman who was supposedly caring for his best friends' son, he realised that it wasn't just sibling rivalry that had caused Lily to speak of her sister without fondness, but rather it was truth. He looked up to see Dumbledore staring back at him with a knowing glint in his eyes and an air of acceptance surrounding him. Remus furrowed his brow and looked back down at Harry and Laurel, his arms tightened against the toddler in his arms. He couldn't give Harry back to that dreadful woman, not after seeing her disdain for him and eagerness to be rid of him.

"We can take him." Laurel's childish voice filled the room as she looked up at Petunia with seriousness, only asking as a formality. Petunia's inherent sneer softened and her sad eyes glanced at Harry, who she had never seen so lively or happy, then moved back to Laurel. She gave a short nod and exited the room.

Laurel pushed herself off the couch and gestured for Remus and Dumbledore to follow her, and they did so. Petunia met them at the front door with a small, worn diaper bag in hand, which she passed down to Laurel who held it tight in her arms. Without fuss, Petunia's visitors left with Harry Potter in hand and she breathed a sigh of relief; Vernon would be pleased, but some part of her was relieved that she and her family would no longer have the ability to harm her sister's son.

Meanwhile, back on _Wisteria Walk_ , Dumbledore stood on the side of the road with his right hand raised. Almost immediately there was a crash and a deafening bang; a tall, dark purple bus had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, screeching to a stop in front of Dumbledore. The doors to the bus hissed open and an older man stepped off, dressed in a uniform and cap.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus…ah." The man started with a hoarse voice, stopping as he looked up to see who had hailed them. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Ah, Mr West! It's been so long since I've seen you at Hogwarts…" Dumbledore and the man conversed shortly and awkwardly about Mr West's illustrious job as the Knight Bus' conductor.

Meanwhile, Laurel and Remus, with baby Harry in hand, were ushered onto the bus. Laurel stared around in amazement as they sat in the nearest seats, she turned in place and saw a wild assortment of witches and wizards as such that she had only ever seen before on their few visits to Diagon Alley. Harry followed his sister's example and was kneeling on the seat beside her, looking quite overwhelmed with the bright, shining colours and the busy, chattering people.

Laurel smiled her usual fond smile that usually found its way to her face in the presence of blatant magic, and turned to sit properly in her seat as Dumbledore and the conductor made their way onto the bus, Dumbledore taking his seat opposite them after telling Mr West that their destination was the _Leaky Cauldron_.

"Alrigh'." The conductor tapped the glass behind the driver's seat and soon they were off; the passengers were thrown sideways against each other and luggage was already beginning to slide out from under feet and across the floor.

After the most turbulent and unpleasant bus ride that Laurel had ever had in all her years of living, the bus came to a sudden stop outside the Leaky Cauldron, she and Harry would have been thrown forward if not for Remus' steadying hand catching them both.

As Dumbledore took care of payment, Laurel quickly stood from her seat and Remus followed her with Harry giggling in his arms. She breathed a sigh of relief after she found herself once again on solid land, Remus silently sharing her sentiment.

"You should not have enjoyed that this much!" Laurel exclaimed to the still giggling Harry, an accusing finger poking him on the bottom of one wiggling foot. Dumbledore re-joined his three happy companions, and even though they had caused the re-evaluation of his game plan, Dumbledore couldn't help but be pleased at the effect of reuniting with young Harry had on the comparatively solemn Remus and Laurel. In the long run, he had probably made the right choice in allowing Laurel her brother back.

"Alas, I must be leaving!" Dumbledore said with finality, "I have a school to run." After exchanging farewells, Dumbledore left the family to their fun at the Leaky Cauldron and returned to his beloved school, the merriment continuing as he passed dozens of happy and chattering students rushing between classes.

"All is well with the Potter children?" Professor McGonagall appeared beside him quite suddenly, Dumbledore took his slight jump in stride with a chuckle.

"Yes, young Harry is where he belongs; with his sister and Mr Lupin." McGonagall pursed her lips at this, she had never been told by Albus just why Harry had been kept away in the first place, especially with such horrid people.

"Hmm." McGonagall just hummed an agreement and left Dumbledore in the hall, she had a class of unruly mad-children to teach.


	14. Augur

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Chapter Two: Augur [Soothsayer]**

 **16 February 1983. 12:24pm**

Remus and Laurel sat opposite each other at the small, ramshackle dining table that was pushed against the kitchen wall, Harry between them in his new highchair. They were both looking vaguely into the distance, eyes not quite connecting with each other's. A quiet giggle interrupted their stupor and they simultaneously turned to see baby Harry smiling widely at his two returned family members, red spaghetti sauce splattered all over his chin in a pattern that Laurel thought was quite reminiscent of a Pollock.

Quickly, Remus scrambled out of his chair for a paper towel and Laurel just smiled dazedly at her brother. Harry had been with them for a week and a half and both hers and Remus' sleep had halved. Laurel couldn't fault the kid for it, glad that the Dursleys hadn't broken his spirit. Although, Laurel wouldn't exactly say no to a little less noisiness. Harry's fluffy head ducked and dived out of Remus' reach but he was able to clean off the spaghetti sauce just in time for another spoonful.

Harry's small fist clenched against his plastic spoon and the spaghetti zoomed in, almost all of the pasta somehow managing to fall off and back into the bowl.

"Mmm." Harry mumbled to himself, smiling around his spoonful of nothingness. Laurel snorted at him and Remus sighed exasperatedly.

"Maybe a fork?" Laurel suggested, handing her brother his matching plastic fork, which he grasped in his available hand and jabbed into the bowl. Harry's eyes looked back over and scrutinised his sister's handling of the fork, following her example and twirling it in the spaghetti until he lifted it up and some strands were wrapped around it. "Good job." Laurel smiled at her brother, he smiled back.

"Laurel?" Remus started, Laurel turned her attention to him and gave a hum of acknowledgement. "I've been meaning to ask you, why did you believe, even before we'd arrived at your aunt and uncle's house, that Harry was going to come home with us?" Laurel's brow furrowed minutely as she considered the question, in her mind she scoured diligently for the plan that she had thought of to explain any strange future-knowing actions away; she came to the obvious conclusion…

"I knew we would."

"You knew?"

"Mhmm, I saw it…Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon being horrible to Harry, shouting and…" Laurel trailed off, almost glaring into her bowl. "I knew that you wouldn't let them as soon as you found out." She finished succinctly, Remus staring at her with concern.

"You saw it? How, in…a dream?" Laurel thought for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"But I don't think I was asleep." Laurel fully planted the seed, she saw realisation take over Remus.

"Gah!" Harry exclaimed, his fork twitched in his hand and sauce splattered in front of him over the table, one lone spaghetti whipping through the air and landing onto Remus' cheek. His concerned expression lifted and he smiled.

"Thank you, Harry." He said softly as he picked the sticky pasta off his face, Laurel scoffed in amusement along with Harry's giggling.

 **16 February 1983. 9:16pm**

A flash of brilliant green flames lit Remus' flat as the fireplace flared up, a man, Albus Dumbledore, emerged from the fire. Remus himself sat nervously in his armchair, wordlessly meeting Dumbledore's eyes and gesturing to the couch opposite him. Dumbledore sat, then turned his attention to Remus who slumped in his chair.

"She—I think she's a seer." He started with a quiet, hoarse voice. Dumbledore's eyes widened minutely, this escaping Remus' notice.

"What, exactly, has led you to believe this?" Dumbledore managed. Remus paused for a moment before responding.

"It…could be a fluke. But, Laurel said that the reason she knew why Harry would come home with us is that she saw in a dream that the Dursleys were treating Harry horribly, that I would have no choice but to take him from them. She's a seer." He ended miserably. One hand came up to scrub his face, tired face laden with the beginnings of wrinkles and dark purple marks under his eyes. Dumbledore seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"If Laurel is indeed a seer, we shall know in time as she gets older. I don't think she is in harm's way if she does have the gift, just continue to talk to her about her dreams, let her know that she is safe." Dumbledore seemed distracted, undoubtedly thinking of the effect young Laurel's powers might have on the inevitable War he believed would take place in the near future. Finally, Dumbledore focused his eyes on Remus, and he saw the worry that had overtaken him. "Remus, my boy," Remus flinched slightly at the endearment, "Laurel will be fine." Dumbledore assured him.

"How can you know that?" Remus scoffed at Dumbledore's words. "You know as well as I do the cruelty of this world, what if she sees something unspeakably horrible? She's not even five years old yet! And, already…"

"You will deal with it, Remus. If the time comes when Laurel needs your help, be there." Dumbledore said firmly, catching Remus' sad eyes with his own. After some prompting, Remus gave a determined nod.

"She'll be fine." Remus reiterated to himself.

"Exactly." Dumbledore said with an enigmatic smile. "Now, if that was all…?" Remus looked up with wide eyes and nodded, suddenly remembering that Albus Dumbledore is considered by many to be the greatest wizard alive, then feeling silly for having him essentially at his beck and call for every scared thought that makes its way into his head.

"Sorry! For keeping you…important things to do, probably." Remus expressed his feeling with wide eyes, Dumbledore just gave a quiet yet hearty chuckle in return.

"Not at all, my boy!" Dumbledore stood with Remus, making his way back to the still-crackling fireplace, "Actually, Minerva, Rubeus and I were going to pop over to the Three Broomsticks for a drink or two, don't suppose you'd want to…" Dumbledore trailed off.

"Oh, no thanks…got the…" Remus trailed off, pointing vaguely in the direction of Laurel and Harry's room.

"Ah, of course! Farewell, then, Remus." Dumbledore entered the grate with a twirl of his robes and tossed a handful of Floo powder that had come from some unknown place, stating his destination: the _Three Broomsticks_.

Remus sighed in relief, worries successfully dashed. He quickly stifled the fire and made his way to bed, 9:30 being very late for a new father of two.

 **9 August 1983. 11:03am**

It was just over a week after Harry had turned three years old, half a year after he had come to live with Remus and Laurel, that they had gotten their first playdate arrangement. Remus had not heard from anyone in the Order for a long time, so it was quite a shock when Molly Weasley knocked on their front door. After a decidedly condescending conversation, Molly invited Remus and his two kids to the Weasley's Burrow on the following Tuesday.

On said Tuesday the 9th, they arrived a whole three minutes late after taking the train to Devon, then a Muggle taxi. After knocking on the door and entering the ramshackle home that so fitted its name, Remus, Laurel and Harry were immediately greeted by the entire Weasley brood, Arthur, Molly and their seven children: Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, Ron and Ginny. Currently being one of only two siblings, Laurel was a bit overwhelmed at the sight.

"Remus, dear, glad you came." Molly smiled warmly at the three, then after noticing the wide eyes of the Potter children, immediately turned a stern look towards her own children, "Best behaviour! _All of you_! You two, especially!" Molly directed towards two giggling boys Laurel's age, she recognised them immediately as the twins Fred and George. She looked around with hopelessness, seeming to suddenly realise just how many rambunctious children she had in her living room.

"Laurel, why don't you…take Harry here, meet the others." Remus set Harry on the ground and he toddled along next to her as she sat amongst the red-headed crowd, shooting a reassuring smile back at him as he made his way into the nearby kitchen with Arthur and Molly.

After a few unsure moments surrounded by kids that were in reality so much younger than herself, Laurel was soon let into the game of Exploding Snap that the older kids were playing, and Harry was babbling along with Ron and the younger Ginny.

"Hah! I win!" The much-more-freckled boy Charlie cried as the cards collided in a colourful bang in the middle of the circle, Laurel laughed along with the rest of them as the clouds dispersed to reveal all the children covered with colourful spots. As the spots began to fade, the eldest, Bill, got up and, though there was much begging from his brothers to stay, had to leave for 'important homework business'. Charlie soon followed, having recently acquired a book on magical creatures, leaving Laurel, Percy, Fred and George to their own devices.

"How 'bout we play Old Maid?" Laurel piped up, the others looking towards her in confusion.

"What's that?" Fred queried.

"Yeah, we've never heard of 'Fold Maid'." George added.

" _Old Maid_." Laurel corrected, "It's a Muggle game!" The others looked interested, and she quickly explained the rules as the Self-Shuffling cards self-shuffled on the floor. Laurel picked up the cards and took out a joker, then she dealt all the cards amongst them.

After some time of tense gameplay, Laurel metaphorically sweating as the lone joker stared up at her from her hand with only two cards amongst it, she got a pair from the card she had picked from Fred's hand and the joker was taken from hers by Percy.

"Ugh, I forfeit!" Percy cried out, causing Fred and George to groan and Laurel to furrow her brow. "I'm not playing your baby game anymore, I've got more important things to do!" He set his cards down on the ground and stomped off.

"What a stinker!" Fred lamented to himself, George nodding along in agreement. Fred suddenly brightened and looked between Laurel and Harry. "So, is it true that Harry stopped You-Know-Who?"

"No, who?" Laurel said jokingly, it completely going over the twins' collective heads.

"You know, You-Know-Who!" George said exasperatedly, Laurel just snorted in response to the stupidness of the moniker, but she wasn't about to crush the dreams of a five-year old.

"Yeah…" She trailed off, wondering their point.

"And, he has the scar?" Fred drew his finger over his forehead in a lightning bolt. Laurel nodded, the three of them looking over to see Harry and Ron having what looked like a serious conversation with their nonsensical words and advanced baby babbling.

"Cool." The twins said together, bright smiles lighting their faces. Laurel gave a half-hearted smile at their innocence, not saying anything about how their parents had died as a result of that night...

"Hey, wanna see our gnomes?" Fred said suddenly, standing up with his twin and dragging Laurel out of the living room, each twin with their arm looped through hers on either side.

"And just where are you three going?" Arthur said lightly from the kitchen table, the three turned in a line to see the three adults sitting around the table with teacups sitting in front of them.

"See the gnomes…" George said vaguely, Fred nodding alongside him. Laurel was just smiling silently at their antics.

"Hmm, lend Laurel Percy's gumboots, then." Molly told them after getting an approving nod from Remus. As they left out the door, the adults moved into the living room to keep an eye on the three little ones.

Outside, Laurel managed to pull on Percy's larger and plain-blue boots as the twins' pulled on their matching bright-purple boots. She ran to catch up with them as they led her to the nearby flower garden.

"Hmm, maybe behind the pink ones?" Fred asked George while gesturing to some pink flowers, George nodded decidedly. Fred squished himself behind the flowers and cried out 'Aha!', then a tiny gnome head was raised above the flowers by Fred.

"Grr." The gnome grumbled, its ugly little face scrunched up at being disturbed. Fred managed his way back out of the bush and the three toddled off closer to the fence, where Fred got ready to throw the gnome. Laurel and George stood far back as Fred began to spin and spin, finally releasing the gnome…in the wrong direction. Thud! The gnome hit the side of the house, and all three kids' eyes widened as they heard a loud voice from inside the house.

"Fred, George!" Molly's muffled voice sounded, Fred darted off away from the house where Molly was just coming out the front door, and George quickly grabbed Laurel's hand and dragged her off after him, both giggling at Fred's misfortune all the way.


	15. Miser

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Chapter Three: Miser [Wretch]**

 **11 August 1983. 3:20pm**

It was two days later, when Laurel was once again at the Burrow with her family for Ginny's second birthday, that Laurel had a realisation. They were seated around the living room, the adults on the couch and the children scattered around on the floor, and Ginny was excitedly tearing open her presents with the help of Fred and George. There was a high-pitched squeal as a tiny toy broomstick was unveiled, Ginny waving her hands in the air.

"Aw, mum, why does Ginny get a broomstick?" Fred whined, pouting up at his mother.

"I don't know, Fred…Arthur, why _does_ Ginny get a new broomstick?" Molly looked at her sheepish husband with accusation, having known when they bought the toy that there would be a revolt from the masses.

"Well, uh…Ginny saw that the boys all had one, and seemed to want one for herself!" Arthur said diplomatically, looking pointedly down at the ecstatic toddler who was cuddling her new broomstick to her cheek. Fred deflated and seemed to accept his terms, the other kids doing so also.

It was when Ginny was being helped onto her low-flying broomstick by her eldest brother that Laurel had that realisation. Where Bill had been sitting she saw a fat rat slumped against a plump pillow. Her blood ran cold when she remembered just who she had to thank for the death of her parents, just who she had been unable to stop, even with her foreknowledge: Peter Pettigrew. The same Pettigrew who was posing as the Weasley family's rat. She looked down beside her at her baby brother, who looked on the rabble with a wide smile.

"I want 'un." Harry mumbled around his finger, bright eyes trained on Ginny who flew about the room closely followed by a worried mother. Laurel reached down and eased Harry's hand out of his mouth and he turned his smile to her.

"Maybe for your next birthday." Laurel told him, his eyes already lit up in anticipation. Her own eyes flickered up to where Harry's lightning bolt scar was barely covered by his hair; she couldn't let that wretched man escape his punishment all the while allowing Sirius to rot in the dreaded Azkaban, innocent.

So, a few hours later, just before Laurel, Harry and Remus were to leave, Laurel sneaked away from the table under the guise of needing the toilet. She was directed to go up the first two staircases, then to the door to the left. Laurel climbed the crooked stairs until she came upon the second floor, then saw that the door to the right had 'Bill and Charlie' spelled on it in unevenly placed, blue foam letters.

She quietly turned the copper doorknob and pushed the resistant door open. The room looked typical of two preteen boys: as if it were experiencing fallout after a nuclear war. Laurel quickly tiptoed through the mess, finding it difficult to locate any bare spaces on the floor for her feet, and made her way to where a small, metal cage was sitting on the windowsill. As she approached it, her eyes were caught by a fluttering on the nearest bed: a tiny plastic dragon toy was prancing around on the covers, breathing small puffs of white smoke. Her eyes lit up at the magic and she reached down, stroking its plastic, spined back with a single finger, its back arched and its tail coiled in response.

"That's Charlie's." Laurel snapped up and turned to see Bill Weasley leaning against the door frame and looking at her with a furrowed brow.

"Uh—"

"Thought you were going to the bathroom?" Bill moved into the room and pointed backwards, "That's the door across from ours…"

"I was just…" She started, but Bill looked at her expectantly, and she thought that perhaps a close approximation of the truth would be more helpful, "I wanted your rat…"

"Scabbers?" Bill said incredulously. "What do you want with him? He's hopeless…" Laurel hummed and tried to gather her thoughts.

"I see things?" Laurel sighed and further explained, "I see things that others can't…I saw that my aunt and uncle were treating Harry badly, that we would take him home—"

"You're a seer?" Bill asked excitedly, before deflating and continuing, "Mum says that's hogwash, though." Laurel stepped forward and widened her eyes.

"It's not, though! I saw it and it came true, and I saw that my parents' friend Peter Pettigrew was the reason why my parents died, why Harry got hurt, he sold them out, turned into a rat and ran away…" Bill looked down thoughtfully.

"My rat?" He clarified. Laurel nodded enthusiastically. "But, how can you tell he's my rat and not somebody else's?"

"His toe on his front paw, it's missing?" Laurel asked Bill, who nodded, "All that was found of Peter was, his finger." Bill scrunched up his nose.

"Gross." He said shortly. "Well, what do you wanna do with Scabbers if I give him to you?"

Laurel perked up and quickly assured him, "Take him to Hogwarts, to McGonagall, and have her do this spell, it reveals Animagi. If he really is a normal rat, he'd be fine." Bill stood still for a moment, pondering whether he should trust her.

"Okay…" He said with a sigh, moved past her and picked up Scabbers' small cage. He bent down and rummaged around under his bed until he surfaced a large pouch. "Undetectable extension charm and automatically shrinks when you close it, I found it, was my great-uncle's…he smuggled illegal artefacts in from Bulgaria." He explained, then paused, "We don't talk about him, though."

"He won't get out?" Laurel asked.

"Uh-uh, unbreakable charm on the cage, he's gotten out one too many times." Bill looked thoughtful, "'Spose it just adds to your possible prophecy." He stood and hanged the now quite small pouch around Laurel's neck. "There."

"Why are you so eager to get rid of your rat?" Laurel asked suspiciously, tucking the pouch under her jacket.

"Well, as I said, he's quite hopeless. Maybe if he never comes back I'll get an owl?" Bill smiled hopefully at Laurel who gave a small smile back.

"Thanks for trusting me." Laurel said, catching Bill's eye.

"No trouble!" He exclaimed, then wandered back out of the room, back down the crooked stairs. Laurel spared one last glance to the toy dragon who was now chasing its own tail, jumping when its smoky breath caught the end of it. She smiled, the magic of wizarding toys always being wondrous, and followed after Bill.

Soon, Laurel, Harry and Remus left to return home after their long day at the Weasley's. After a few hours snuggling around the fire it was eight o'clock and time for bed.

"Which one tonight?" Remus asked distractedly as he put Harry down in his crib. In her bed, Laurel burrowed down and wiggled her cold toes under the duvet.

"No story, thank you. G'night." Laurel said with a decidedly fake, wide yawn, her eyes blinked shut and she relaxed into her bed.

"No story? There's always a story…" Remus sounded tired but softly returned her goodnight and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Nigh'." Harry mumbled from his crib in the corner, Laurel's mouth turned up into a smile.

"G'Night, little bro." She returned, getting a happy sigh back.

Though Laurel floated off in a doze for a few hours, she woke again when she heard the click of Remus' door. Laurel blinked the tiredness out of her eyes and struggled out of her bed covers, dropping onto the ground and making her way to the dresser. She quickly dressed, slipped Bill's shrunken pouch around her neck and quietly snuck over to the door.

Laurel glanced to the side and saw her baby brother's chest rising and falling through the darkness, she felt strengthened and determined to succeed in her mission, for no one if not him. The door opened silently, Laurel slipped out and down the hallway, creeping past Remus' door through which he could be heard softly snoring.

At the front door, Laurel stopped for a moment and looked back with uncertainty towards the hall that led back to the comfort of her family, thinking that perhaps she should tell Remus, that, unlike on the night her parents died, someone might believe her and heed her warning. But, she shook her head of the thought and turned the knob, easing out of the apartment and shutting the door behind her.

Minutes later, Laurel stepped onto the street below and swiftly held out her right hand as if to hail a taxi. With a crash and a bang, the tall, deep purple Knight Bus appeared before her as if out of thin air. The doors squeaked open and the conductor stepped down, only to be pushed to the side as Laurel clambered up the steps beside him and into the bus.

"Oy, missy—?" He called after her.

"Hogsmeade, please." She said simply, sitting on the edge of the closest bed, the bus being prepared for tired customers and replacing the normal seats with beds for nights. The conductor ambled back up the steps and came to a stop in front of her, beady eyes looking down over his large nose.

"Where are you off to all alone, then?" The conductor asked with suspicion lacing his words. Laurel sighed softly, reached deep into her pants pocket and pulled out a handful of silver sickles.

"Hogsmeade, please." Laurel repeated pleasantly, dropping the coins into the man's outstretched hand. His eyes narrowed suspiciously but after a stern look from her, he accepted the payment and left her alone, telling the driver that they were set to go.

The moment the Bus took off, Laurel remembered why exactly she did not like it; her stomach tossed and turned as the Bus shot through the streets of London, then through the countryside. She closed her eyes and leant her spinning head against the bed's post, and didn't open them until the conductor announced her stop.

Laurel quickly rushed off the bus, jumping down onto solid land with a satisfying thump. Behind her the Bus flew off again with a bang, she looked up beyond the town of Hogsmeade and saw the great castle of Hogwarts sitting low a fair way away, partially hidden behind a tall hill.

She gave a great sigh at the walk before her, but soon set off towards the castle, following the helpful signs indicating the nearby path to the grounds. The mud on the dirt path squished under her boots, and she winced at the thought of Remus having to clean them after her venture, then further blanched at his inevitable anger at Laurel for putting herself in danger.

Alas, she did not have long to dwell on this thought for she soon came upon the heavy iron gates of Hogwarts. Laurel's hand landed on the twisting metal as she came to a stop, then looked up along the towering gate; this was a problem.

"Ugh." She bemoaned, kicking a clot of mud away with her boot, it was halted by seemingly nothing, and then the air shivered around it. A blue silver wave shuddered through the gaps of the metal gate, rushing out from the point where the mud had apparently hit. "And a magic shield, force field…whatever."

Laurel whined with anxiety, afraid that she was never going to reach Hogwarts and defeat the evil rat Pettigrew. Without thought, she plopped herself down onto the ground, legs splayed ahead of her. There was a squish and Laurel simply rolled her eyes at the luck she had; she had sat in an especially wet patch of mud. She brought her legs up and cuddled them to her chest, chin resting on her knees.

"Hey, 'oo's that there?" A booming voice suddenly sounded from beyond the gate. Laurel stood and stared with wide eyes. The man was holding a lantern, and brought it up higher. Laurel saw with relief that it was Hagrid: his warm, black beetle-like eyes shining in the light.

"That's not little Laurel, is it?" His voice softened as he greeted her warmly. Laurel moved forward and her fingers gripped the metal of the gate.

"Please, Hagrid, you have to help me!"


	16. Captivus

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Chapter Four: Captivus [Captive]**

 **11 August 1983. 11:03pm**

Hagrid's bushy eyebrows furrowed with concern as he took in Laurel who was peering up at him from between the bars, eyes wide with panic. He lowered his lantern and set it firmly on the grass beside him, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a large set of rusted keys, a tiny dormouse hanging onto the ring. Hagrid carefully pulled the mouse from the key and set him back in his pocket home with a fond smile, turning to the tall gates and shoving the largest key into the keyhole. The gate screeched open, the blue silver wave of magic shivering into existence and rushing away from the now open space, Laurel stepped through with some trepidation, boots squelching in the mud.

"Thanks, Hagrid." Laurel sighed in relief, shooting a bright but tired smile up at the half-giant, he returned it but with a concerned tilt.

"What're you doin' here, Laurel?" Hagrid asked bluntly, following Laurel steadily as she began to run towards the castle, his steps being thrice as long as hers. "Where's Remus?"

"There's no time! We have to get to McGonagall!" Laurel panted as she ran up the sweeping hill.

"Not Professor Dumbledore?" Hagrid was confused, most visitors indeed wanted to see the headmaster. Laurel just shook her head and stopped in place, waiting for Hagrid to pull open the heavy wooden doors to Hogwarts. She stepped into the hall, but stopped and looked at Hagrid with realisation in her expression.

"How _do_ you get to McGonagall's office?" Laurel suddenly remembered that she had not, in fact, ever been to Hogwarts for any significant amount of time, and as such did not know where anything was, at all. Hagrid's brow furrowed further and he stepped with heavy thuds into the hall beside her, looking down her with hesitation. "Please?" Laurel's eyes widened, terrified that she actually wouldn't make it to McGonagall's office, Hagrid glanced down at the floor.

"Fine, follow me." He said heavily, setting off down the corridor with Laurel running behind him to catch up. After many silent and desolate twisting and turning corridors, and what felt to Laurel like approximately four billion steps, Hagrid came to a sudden stop in front of the portrait of a smirking lady. "Professor McGonagall's private quarters. You sure this is important?" Hagrid looked at her anxiously, knowing that the decidedly severe Minerva McGonagall wouldn't take to unnecessary midnight interruptions.

"Yes. Definitely—"

"Can I help you?" Laurel was interrupted by the lady in the portrait in front of them, she had murmured the words, feigning unbothered boredom but annoyance and tiredness clouded her eyes. Laurel looked up to Hagrid expectantly.

"Laurel Potter 'ere to see Professor McGonagall." He said deliberately, the smirking woman rolled her eyes and stood, bringing her silk robe closer around herself and slinking out of the frame, disappearing. Laurel managed a slight smile at the magic, then they were interrupted by the portrait swinging open just as the smirking lady entered it, who grumbled with the abrupt movement.

Minerva McGonagall appeared in a dark emerald housecoat, glasses balanced on her nose and hair tied back in a tight bun, looking severe as ever despite her sleep attire, she looked down with confusion at Laurel, then glanced up at Hagrid with questioning eyes.

"Hagrid, what is this?" McGonagall asked sternly.

"Found 'er at the gate, wantin' to see you." Hagrid said shortly. McGonagall peered back at the much smaller Laurel.

"Miss Potter? How may I help you?" She asked tiredly. Laurel looked up at her with hopeful and somewhat scared eyes, stuttering to answer her.

"Uh, it's complicated." She managed, McGonagall looked at her unimpressed. Laurel looked behind her and queried, "Can we…go in?" McGonagall paused for a moment then gave a sharp nod, backing away and letting Laurel through. Hagrid remained outside the portrait, it being smaller than he was.

"Trust you got all this 'andled." He said warmly, McGonagall answering affirmatively. "Goodnight then Professor McGonagall, Laurel." Hagrid gave them both a bright smile after they said their goodbyes and made his way back to his hut. McGonagall stood in the doorway for a moment, then promptly shut the portrait, going down the small hall and sitting in a nearby armchair. Laurel followed her and sat on the second armchair opposite, noticing the dully lit candle and heavy tome on the table beside McGonagall, she wondered if the book was about magic.

"Miss Potter." McGonagall interrupted her thoughts, Laurel's eyes snapped to her.

"Uh..." Laurel mumbled again and after a moment decided to just untuck Bill's pouch from under her coat and take it off from around her neck. She pulled it open and stood from where she sat, kneeling on the floor and reaching in, her arms disappearing into seemingly nowhere. Laurel felt around until her hands hit the cage and she pulled it out with a firm tug.

"Miss Potter?" McGonagall looked confused as Laurel put the animal cage on the coffee table in front of her, she could see a fat, grimy rat sleeping on a tuft of shredded newspaper. "What is the meaning of this?"

"This," Laurel started, placing a denoting hand on the top of the cage, "is Peter Pettigrew." McGonagall started, then her face turned soft and pity filled her eyes.

"Laur—" She was cut off.

"It is." Laurel's voice stuttered for fear of cutting off the famously stern Professor McGonagall, but she soldiered on. "Dumbledore's prob'ly told you I'm a seer. I really am. I saw Peter talking to You-Know-Who, he told them where Mum and Dad were, it wasn't Sirius."

McGonagall's brow furrowed as she sat back in her armchair with a huff of disbelief, still obviously requiring further convincing.

"Peter can turn into a rat, I remember from when I was little. Sirius could turn into a dog, and my Dad into a stag, too."

"…They were—?"

"Animaguses."

"Animagi." McGonagall said resolutely, Laurel forced herself to not roll her eyes impudently at the correction.

"Yes. Animagi." She conceded. "And all that was found of Peter was his…" Laurel trailed off, seeing that McGonagall already knew the end of that sentence, "Scabbers' is missing his toe off his right paw." McGonagall leaned forward and peered in between the tiny bars of the cage, noting that Laurel was right about the missing toe.

"You say you _saw_ that the rat was Peter?" McGonagall looked as though she was beginning to believe her.

"Mmhmm, in a dream." Laurel lied, keeping up with the seer rouse. "It doesn't matter if you don't believe me," She said abruptly, "isn't there a spell that turns an Animagus back to their human form?" McGonagall glanced at Laurel with suspicion.

"Yes, and how would you know that, Miss Potter?" Laurel stayed silent, giving McGonagall an obvious look which pointed to her supposed seer abilities. "Hmm, yes." McGonagall realised the fact herself. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt…" McGonagall noted, so she promptly unlatched the tiny gate of the cage and lifted the still sleeping rat from his makeshift bed, then set him down on the floor in front of her.

Pettigrew gave a wheezing snort as he stretched in his sleep, Laurel thought him so aptly nicknamed as his decidedly wormy tail wriggled on the floor. McGonagall had surfaced her fir wand, twirling it to point at the fat rat on the floor, mouth opening to say the incantation and—

CRASH.

The portrait door slammed open and the rat startled awake, looking around with beady eyes until they landed on a wide-eyed Laurel and McGonagall. He gave a harsh squeak and hurriedly scuttled off, running behind a cabinet.

Laurel's head snapped up from where Pettigrew had disappeared to see that the crash had come from Dumbledore bursting into the room. He panted harshly, looking pale with exhaustion and his eyes were narrowed with suspicion, they widened to disguise this but Laurel had seen.

She jumped up from where she sat and hurried over to the cabinet, placing her head against the wall to try and see where the rat had gone.

"Oh!" McGonagall cried, Laurel looked towards her and saw the rat scurry across the middle of the room towards the portrait where Dumbledore stood.

"What is this?" Dumbledore's rasping voice sounded purposefully contained as he looked down at the rat with realisation.

Laurel ignored him and followed after the rat, jumping down out of the portrait and catching just a glimpse of Pettigrew scurrying around the corner. She ran after him, the only sounds in the deserted corridors were her shoes tapping against the concrete and her panicked pants which soon turned to cries.

"No." Laurel whispered harshly as she stopped at a crossroads of corridors, head swiftly turning to look down each one and not finding the rat in any of them. Her hand came up and her fingers buried themselves in her hair, she whined with upset as she realised that she had lost the rat; lost the man who had killed her parents, who had sent Sirius to Azkaban, who could have led to Sirius' release. Laurel heard two sets of rushed footsteps behind her, they came to a stop next to her and she turned to them with reddened eyes.

"He's gone." Laurel said simply, face dropping into a blank stare of defeat.

"Who, may I ask, are you referring to?" Dumbledore asked lightly, trying to give Laurel a reassuring smile. Laurel stared back at him with a straight face, then turned to McGonagall with hard eyes.

"Nobody." She said flatly, looking into McGonagall's eyes to convey that she should not tell Dumbledore, or anybody else for that matter, of what had happened that night.

"Is that true, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked presumptuously. McGonagall looked resigned.

"Of course, Albus. Laurel has just…fought with Remus, and came to Hogwarts, it's often considered the safest place by many witches and wizards. Isn't it, Albus?" McGonagall did not wait for his reply. "I'll just take Miss Potter back to her family, shall I?" She started off down the corridor, Laurel followed quickly after her.

They returned back to McGonagall's private quarters, stepped into the portrait, and then came to the fireplace. McGonagall picked up a small container off the mantle and opened the latch, revealing the ashy Floo powder within. She handed it to Laurel who took a handful and handed it back.

"I'll be fine on my own." Laurel said, stepping into the fireplace and turning to give McGonagall a small, shaky smile.

"Very well. Goodnight, Laurel." McGonagall said goodbye, looking as though she rather pitied Laurel, ultimately deciding that of course Dumbledore had not made a mistake concerning the Potters, Black had been their Secret Keeper. Laurel returned her sentiment and threw the powder to the ground, green flames engulfed her and she was whisked away to her home.

Laurel arrived at their apartment and stumbled out of the fireplace, tripping on the edge of the mat and falling to her knees. She let out a surprised cry and the pain made her face scrunch up, despite it being small compared to other injuries. Laurel sat back on her feet and sat quietly for a moment, tears reluctantly welling up in her eyes at the night she had had.

"Laurel?" Remus' sleepy voice came from the hall, he looked at her confusedly. Laurel gave a small cry and her tears began to stream freely, and in a moment of childishness, she held out her arms for her godfather, who quickly rushed to get her from where she had fallen. "What happened?" He asked as he lifted her into his arms, she rested her head on his shoulder and shook it minutely, remaining silent. Laurel's hands came up to twist in Remus' hastily-thrown-on sweater and he brought her closer to him. "Are you okay?" His voice softened. Laurel gave a short nod and snuggled closer, face still crumpled with defeat.


	17. Malum

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Chapter Five: Malum [Trouble]**

 **12 August 1983. 10:19am**

Laurel snorted awake, as she usually tended to do, with her face smushed into her pillow. She groaned, eyes gradually blinking open to see light streaming through the open curtains. A yawn escaped her, and she turned over to face the room, eyes widening as she saw Remus sitting across from her in a small child's chair, knees around his chest from the chair being so short.

At first, Laurel smiled in amusement, but then she saw his serious face and remembered what had happened the night before. Her smile dropped. Hogwarts, Dumbledore, the _rat_ escaping. Remus' eyes brightened as he noticed she was awake, he leant forward in the tiny, plastic chair.

"Laurel." He said seriously, she mumbled something vaguely resembling a 'no' in return, inching back under her duvet. "Laurel." Remus repeated himself, Laurel flinched at his calm, yet obviously disappointed tone, and resurfaced. She sat up in her bed, leaning back against the headboard, and locking sleepy, sad eyes with Remus' as-usual tired ones.

"Remus." Laurel mimicked his serious tone, hoping for a smile but getting none. "Sorry." She mumbled.

"Laurel, where were you last night?" Remus asked bluntly. Laurel sighed and brushed her fluffy, bird's-nest-like hair out of her eyes.

"Hogwarts." She said honestly, looking up at Remus.

"Hogwarts." Remus repeated with disbelief clouding his tone.

"Hogwarts." Laurel said firmly, eyes lightening in amusement.

"Hog—" Remus started again, catching himself and sharing a small smile with the quietly chuckling Laurel. "Why were you at Hogwarts? How did—" He became serious once more. Laurel became similarly sober and steeled herself, quickly explaining herself, sticking to her abridged truth.

"You had a vision…that Peter—?" Remus managed, Laurel twisted her lips into a wry smile and gave a sharp nod.

Remus sat back heavily in his chair, making an effort not to tip over backwards, and sighed. He looked down at the ground with a furrowed brow.

"How am I supposed to believe you?" Remus asked, genuinely stumped. Laurel became disheartened and slumped against the bed, and Remus shook his head of the thought. "No, I'll trust you Laurel." He resigned, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Laurel perked up and a hopeful smile spread across her face.

"You will?" She asked, believing it too good to be true.

"Of course." Remus' eyes were shining with thought, his brow remained furrowed. His head snapped up as he took in the bedraggled Laurel. "You…get back to sleep."

"No! I'm wide awake!" Laurel exclaimed around a reluctant yawn, bouncing out of bed. She rushed past Remus and out of the bedroom.

Her feet slapped against the wood floor as she rounded the corner into the living room, seeing Harry sitting in the middle of the room. His messy, dark hair fluttered as his head snapped to look at her. Harry's face brightened, he greeted his sister with a happy hello and patted the floor beside his cushion.

Laurel returned his greeting and bounded over to the couch, stealing a cushion. She set it beside Harry and sat on it.

"'Cha watching?" Laurel asked her brother, amused to see him looking transfixed at their tiny television set.

"Boobar." Harry replied, eyes bright as he watched the green dog bound across the screen.

"Roobarb?" Laurel snorted questioningly. Harry shot her a smile and nodded, fluffy hair swaying.

Behind her, Laurel heard Remus enter the room and sit on the cushion-less couch. She turned her head and shared a soft smile with her godfather, then turned her attention back to the television, Harry giggling beside her.

 **1 September 1983. 8:30am**

Laurel sat swinging her legs in a very stiff and uncomfortable chair, face set in a hard frown. Her feet knocked against her brand new Star Wars backpack, Chewbacca's face seemed to scrunch with the indent made by her toes. A long, forlorn sigh filled the room, Laurel looked over to where Remus was talking to a receptionist, and he turned his head to the sound. Remus shook his head slightly and continued his conversation.

"Hi." Laurel's head snapped to the side and she narrowed her eyes at the kid who had spoken to her. The little girl, who was around Laurel's age, recoiled in fear, Laurel's expression softened.

"Hi." She replied blankly, the little girl perked back up.

"I'm Carolina." The little girl, Carolina, sung her name with a bright smile.

"Hello Carolina, I'm Laurel." Laurel was unfairly flat, Carolina seemed to deflate beside her.

"I've never seen _you_ here before!"

"It's my first day."

"Oh." Carolina seemed to sense that Laurel wasn't entirely psyched about their conversation as she was, so she remained silent. But, almost as if the quiet minute was too overwhelming for her, Carolina soon started up again, "I'm _five_." She said excitedly. Laurel just looked at her, then saw that Carolina had an expectant look upon her face.

"Just turned five yesterday." Laurel said, closing her eyes for a second at the ridiculousness of that statement, being much more mentally mature than that age.

"Wow, we're the same age! What'd ya get for your birthday?" Before Laurel could further the conversation, she was beckoned to the front desk by Remus.

So, Laurel jumped down from the tall, uncomfortable chair and dawdled over to him, dragging her awesome backpack beside her. She stood on the tips of her toes to see over the bench, her eyes were drawn to the receptionist's wide smile and lipstick-stained teeth.

"Everything's all set, Mr Lupin…Laurel is a-okay and ready to go!" The receptionist beamed, ushering the two out of the office and directing them to her new classroom. Carolina gave Laurel an enthusiastic wave which was returned with decidedly less enthusiasm, then they exited the room.

" _Why_ do I have to go to a Muggle school?" Laurel whined once they were outside and alone, beside her Remus sighed exasperatedly.

"The only other option is Molly, and I don't want to give her any more trouble, especially with those twins of hers." Laurel looked up at him pleadingly, he continued regardless, "Besides, it'll be good for you to attend school with Muggles."

Laurel tried to protest further, but Remus still took her to the classroom and left once the teacher had collected her, only after a warm hug goodbye. She really didn't mean to whinge about this, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to spend five days a week with a few dozen rambunctious children. Laurel was shooed into the classroom, the teacher put her backpack with the others and she stood stock-still in the middle of the room.

Her eyes focused on two children who were tearing a Barbie in half, and was utterly convinced that the fate of the Barbie would mimic her own; real-life foreshadowing. The head of the Barbie was torn off with a pop, Laurel flinched with the sound.

 **1 September 1983. 3:15pm**

Six very long hours later, Laurel's salvation was heralded by the ringing school bell. Around her all the other kids were screaming and rushing out of the room, Laurel just shielded herself with her arms then managed to grab her backpack off the shelf.

Once the crowd had dispersed, Laurel marched out of the classroom and immediately spotted Remus at the playground. He was watching the door for her while firmly holding the terribly amused Harry to him with the other. Laurel rushed over to him and collided into his stomach in a hug.

"It was terrible." She moaned melodramatically, kneeling down to bring Harry into her arms. Laurel rearranged herself and sat down on the ground, Harry lied in her lap with his feet swinging in the air, Laurel narrowly ducked being kicked in the face. Above her, Remus was silent, so Laurel looked at him searchingly.

"Was it…that bad?" Remus' eyes were big with upset, Laurel's heart sunk for him.

"No." She said after a moment, looking back down. "It was fine." Laurel smiled at the now relieved Remus. She didn't want him to worry any more than he had to.

"Ice cream!" Harry suggested through his giggles. Laurel looked up at Remus with hopeful eyes, and, with that, they finished Laurel's first day of school off with a trip to the Fortescue's; Harry inadvisably getting chocolate cockroach flavour and creating another 'Pollock of the face'.

 **15 April 1984. 2:02pm**

It was Sunday afternoon and the Potters were once again at the Burrow, Laurel with the twins and Harry with the youngest Weasleys: Ron and Ginny. Despite Laurel's reluctance to spend time with kids the same physical age as her, she always had fun with the Weasley twins. The twins had turned six two weeks prior, on April 1st of course, and were showing Laurel their collective bounty.

Laurel's nose scrunched up in disgust as she knelt beside them, all three staring intently at a small plastic container. Inside, there was four tiny mice bouncing up and down, ricocheting around the walls.

"How." Laurel mumbled flatly.

"Magic." Fred said obviously, looking at Laurel with incredulity. He thought it was strange that someone raised in the wizarding world could somehow not entirely believe in magic. Laurel just ignored him and stared at the mice with suspicion. One of the mice stopped its bouncing and stared back at her, Laurel jerked her head back in surprise.

"That one's looking right at me!" One pudgy finger landed on the plastic side of the cage, Laurel turned fearful eyes to the twins who were beginning to laugh at her.

"Yeah! He knows you don't believe!" George managed between chuckles, Laurel narrowed her eyes and huffed a laugh at herself. She looked back at the accusing mouse.

"Sorry?" Laurel said confusedly. The mouse nodded its tiny head and leapt back into the fray, bouncing along with its siblings.

Laurel sighed in relief that the tiny mouse was no longer upset at her, which she thought was amazing in itself; that a mouse had the capability to be upset, with magic. She sat back on her feet and looked at the jubilant twins beside her.

"Magic is…magic." She managed.

"Pfft." Fred snorted, leaping up along with his brother.

"Have you been talkin' to Percy, Laur?" George joked.

"Yeah, cause you sound _so_ smart!" Fred continued sarcastically.

Laurel scoffed at the twins and swung out a wild hand to hit them, missing enormously. They just giggled at her and bounded out of the room. Laurel could hear them trudging down the stairs, it sounded as though they had been transfigured into two elephants. A quiet chuckle at her thought later, Laurel perked up, scared that they really had been. She bounded out after them and, upon seeing their perpetually bright ginger heads, she deflated with considerable sadness.

"C'mon, Laur! Mum's got sandwiches!" One of the twins called up to her, Laurel brightened again and followed after them.

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley!" Laurel chimed as she took her plate and joined the twins at the table.

"You're very welcome, dear." Molly Weasley said warmly, "Alright?" She asked, seeing that Laurel had taken a huge bite. Laurel hummed in the affirmative and nodded her head, then continued her affair with the sandwich.

She looked over to see Harry and Ron staring intently at a pack of cards that had been scattered all over the floor between them, Ginny was holding the king of hearts in her hand, fluttering it through the air. Laurel smiled at the three, glad that Harry had been brought back to where he belonged, that he was able to be as happy as he always was with them.


	18. Pater

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Chapter Six: Pater [Father]**

 **8 August 1984. 10:30am**

It was summer and the Potters were visiting the Burrow once again, this time for the Weasley family's first annual Quidditch game. Due to age restrictions, the game consisted of only Bill and Charlie representing the Weasley family, playing with and against their friends from Hogwarts. Laurel sat on the side lines, beside her Fred and George were grumbling about their not being allowed to participate.

"Mum—" Fred tried to protest once again.

"No!" Molly Weasley interrupted him firmly, "No one plays Quidditch until they've started their first year of Hogwarts!" Fred and George groaned simultaneously, both flopping onto their backs and slumping together. Laurel snorted at them and shook her head.

"This is an outrage." George grumbled to his brother, who nodded emphatically.

"Maybe we could make a potion to age us up…" Fred postulated, George furrowed his brow and thought on it.

"Nah, mum'd know we're not actually eleven." George narrowed his eyes and huffed in disappointment. Laurel snorted to herself, the idea sounding quite familiar to her.

"You could just wait five years…" Laurel suggested. Fred and George sat up and looked at her, eyes wide with affront.

"Are you crazy?! No way…" Fred turned to George.

"Plan?" George asked.

"Plan." Fred confirmed, jumping up and dragging his brother behind him. Laurel watched them meander off the field towards the Burrow, which towered in the distance, ramshackle rooms seeming stacked on top of the other, and appearing to be moments away from toppling over.

"Here!" Laurel's attention was caught by Tonks who was waving her arms wildly in the air and gesturing for Charlie to give her the Quaffle. Charlie made his way slowly but surely on his twitching broom, its twigs were frayed and faded.

"Laur." She heard a sing-song voice call directly behind her. Laurel's head turned to the side to see her four-year-old brother standing beside her with a deceivingly innocent smile plastered on his face. She returned his smile reluctantly and narrowed her eyes jokingly.

"Harry." She sang in a similar tone, making his smile brighter.

"Can I please have your chocolate frog?" Harry's eyes widened exponentially and Laurel hummed in thought, picking the chocolate frog off the blanket beside her, she had forgotten she had been given one.

"I don't know…"

"Please!" Harry emphasised, Laurel smiled at him in concession.

"Fine…" Laurel held the box out to him and he took it swiftly, then suddenly surged toward her with his arms outstretched in a hug. Laurel caught him with a huff and ruffled his wild, jet-black hair which tickled her cheek.

"Thank you, love you!" Harry exclaimed as he released her from his hug and ran back over to where he and Ron were sitting. He gave the box to Ron with a wide smile, who quickly wrangled the wriggling chocolate frog and broke it in half, sharing it with his friend. Laurel smiled to herself at their close friendship, then looked up as she was interrupted in her thoughts by Remus who had just sat beside her.

"Okay?" He asked. Laurel's brow furrowed minutely, she wondered why he would think to ask.

"Mmhm." She mumbled in assent, turning her eyes to the Quidditch game. Tonks, who had the ball, was having a stand-off against Bill. Tonks faked to the right, Bill flinched too hard and Tonks zipped past him with a whooping laugh. Bill threw his head back in defeat, then narrowed his eyes towards Charlie who was congratulating his successful teammate, Tonks. Laurel laughed lightly at their antics, then glanced back at Remus.

"Are you okay?" Laurel returned, she caught Remus looking as if he wasn't for a fraction of a second, before he turned a small smile towards her and shook his head in the affirmative. "Is it Sirius?" She guessed, her features crumpled with sadness.

"Wh—?" Remus started.

"I'm sorry." Laurel interrupted him, speaking softly. She turned watery eyes towards her godfather, "I didn't mean for the rat to escape…but he did, and now—" She was stopped by Remus who sat straight beside her, her eyes caught his own serious ones.

"Laurel. Bill's rat was just that…a rat." He said firmly, Laurel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Peter is…gone. And that's not your fault," Laurel's eyes widened as she caught on to what Remus was saying, "It's Sirius' fault."

"But—" Laurel tried to protest, unfallen tears clouded her vision as she turned away from Remus. She tried to focus on the game, tried to salvage any carefree happiness she had been feeling earlier.

"Don't worry about it, Laurel. There's nothing you can do. I want you two safe." Remus' breath shuddered as he tried to compose himself, then he softly added, "I have to…help Arthur with…" Remus' voice trailed off, Laurel looked up at him with blank eyes as he got up and meandered away, she winced as she realised he was limping slightly; he had been hurt during the last full moon. Laurel's heart felt as if it had frozen in her chest, Sirius' only viable hope had given up on him. Laurel sighed, overwhelmed at the burden she felt, but her misery was soon interrupted by her brother who bounced up to her once more.

"Sis?" He looked at her with confused eyes, mouth pouted in concern for her.

"Harry?" She sang lightly, smiling over at him.

"You 'kay?" Harry promptly dropped down beside her, then leaned heavily into her shoulder. His wild hair fluttered into her face and she smoothed it down away from her nose.

"'Course, why?"

"Is Moony bein' mean?" Harry turned his face up towards her, eyes hardened and looking ready to avenge her supposedly hurt feelings. Laurel chuckled at this and shook her head, trying to dispel his worries. "I like Moony, but I like you more…I'll punch 'im if you want me too!" Harry informed her, causing Laurel to snort but ultimately melt at her brother's adorableness.

"I'll let you know if I ever need you to do that, Harry…" Laurel became solemn for a moment, "I'm glad you're my little brother, y'know?" Harry smiled brightly up at her, then replied with the unadulterated truth, as a toddler was wont to do.

"I know. Me too." Harry dug his chin into her shoulder and cuddled closer to her, Laurel took a deep breath and cuddled him back. She turned her attention back to the game in front of her, and smiled brightly as she saw the twins wandering back onto the field, trying to inconspicuously smuggle two spare broomsticks with them; and failing, made obvious by their mother's sudden yelling.

 **8 August 1984. 8:40pm**

That night, the Potter family were unusually solemn. Laurel's only reprieve from the tension caused by her disagreement with Remus was her younger brother. Harry had convinced Laurel to play Operation with him, and he was at that moment lying with his face centimetres from their patient, Tom. He had his tongue stuck out to the side and his brow furrowed in concentration as he eased the metal tweezers into the patient's chest cavity to retrieve his 'wish bone.' Laurel sat back, amused at her brother, and also thinking that she was entirely sure humans did not have wish bones, but she supposed she could forgive a board game for incorrect anatomy.

"Oh, no." Harry mumbled unconsciously as the buzzer sang, indicating the tweezers had hit the side. "Oh, no. Oh, no." The little red light lit up again and again as Harry kept hitting the sides, until he finally surfaced the wish bone.

"A job well done, Doctor." Laurel praised him, hiding a smile behind her hand at the amount of times he had essentially killed the patient.

"I know." He said with false arrogance, giggling with his sister. Harry's giggle turned to a yawn, and Laurel suddenly realised how heavy her eyes felt. She glanced at the clock which hung high on the wall, and saw that it was 8:42pm, more than half an hour past their bedtime.

Laurel sat up confused, and looked over to see Remus slumped in his arm chair in the corner of the room, head resting on his palm and eyes closed, sound asleep. She worried her lip between her teeth, and looked at Harry who had rolled over and was blinking sleepily up at the ceiling.

"Bedtime." Laurel said suddenly, jumping up and then nudging Operation off to the side out of the way. Harry grumbled and groaned, but did not resist as she pulled him up and prodded him in the direction of their room.

As Harry toddled off to his bed, Laurel made her way over to Remus. She stopped in front of him and studied his face; the shadows under his eyes were darker than usual, and he looked pale and haggard. Laurel sighed and left him there, pausing only to flick off the lamp beside him to darken the room. She followed her younger brother, whose tired humming filled the hall and gave their apartment the reluctant atmosphere of a creepy horror movie.

"Pyjamas." Laurel ordered Harry as she turned the doorknob for him, he nodded up and down once, and stumbled over to his bed. They both quickly dressed and then Laurel pulled down the covers of Harry's bed, ushering him under, then pulled them back down. She karate-chopped the duvet around him to tuck in him, making him giggle predictably.

"Where's Moony?" Harry asked tiredly, as it was normally Remus who tucked them in.

"Moony's sleeping, you've got _Laurel_ tucking you in tonight!" Laurel smiled at him, he smiled back, eyes already blinking closed. "Night, there."

"G'night." Harry mumbled, smushing his head into his pillow, wild hair flattening against it. Laurel huffed a quiet laugh, flicked the light switch off, and then walked over to her bed, flopping onto it. She inched up and pulled the covers around herself, snuggling in. The pillow was soft and cool on her face, her eyes opened one last time to see Harry dozing fitfully across from her, and they closed again, this time accompanied by a contented smile.

 **8 August 1984. 10:02pm**

Laurel was startled awake some two hours later by a hand on her cheek. She blinked her eyes open and stared up into Remus' surprised, lamenting eyes.

"Sorry." He muttered quietly, sitting lightly on the bed beside her. Laurel stared at him silently in confusion.

"I's just dozing." Laurel dismissed his worries, he turned and his mournful eyes caught her own, and she caught his meaning.

"For…Sirius." Remus admitted softly, mindful of Harry who was still sleeping feet away, "I'm sorry that I said you couldn't do anything…I just want you two safe." His eyes widened pleadingly at her. Laurel stared down at her hands as they twisted the duvet between them.

"I know." Laurel gave Remus a half-hearted, reassuring smile. "I won't mention Pettigrew anymore." She vowed, Remus startled and seemed ready to protest, but Laurel pulled the covers up to her chin.

"Night." Laurel whispered, her eyes fluttering shut once more, partially so that she could be alone.

"Night." Remus returned her farewell gruffly, standing from the bed. He looked down at her and smiled as her nose twitched at her long hair disturbing it. One small hand swatted it away and she turned, burying her face into her pillow, much as her brother was doing.

"Nigh', Dad." Remus' eyes widened as he glanced over at Harry who had mumbled his own goodnight, his heart beat heavily in his chest until he thought it might burst. A quiet, choked sob escaped him, a hand came up to cover his mouth; neither of the children had been disturbed. Remus made his way to the drowsy toddler, and smoothed his hair down with a shaking hand.

"Goodnight." He returned softly, standing in place for a moment, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Remus made his way back to the living room and fell back into his chair, his head fell into his hands and he couldn't help but wish he had Padfoot by his side.


	19. Epilogue: Adversus

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Two: Auribus Teneo Lupum [Holding a Wolf by the Ears]**

 **Epilogue: Adversus [Opposition]**

 **18 December 1988. 1:19pm**

Four years later, Laurel sat stoic on an unforgivingly hard bench, her brother beside her. She looked around, eyes narrowed at her reflection in the polished marble below her feet. Laurel huffed at the sterility of it all, taking pleasure in scuffing a small black mark with the sole of her shoe. She sat back, then glanced at Harry. His attention was intently focused on the piece of paper in his hands. Harry suddenly looked up and caught her eyes, then looked confidently back at his lap, and put the point of the pencil in his hands on the paper, moving it in two sure strokes.

"You sure?" Laurel asked solemnly, raising her brow. Harry looked unsure for a split second, then nodded decisively. He handed the paper and pencil to her. Laurel's face brightened with a wide smile as she made a swooping 'O' on the paper, then struck a line through it and two others of its kind.

"Nice try, little brother."

Harry startled and looked at the paper, then groaned, ruffling his wild hair and sitting back against the wall behind him in a defeated slump.

"Hey, not everyone can be as good as me at Naughts and Crosses." Laurel patted his head with mock derisiveness, causing him to cringe away and smack at her hand.

"It's not fair!" Harry lamented, then his emerald eyes glinted determinedly, "Rematch!" He demanded.

"Pfft, no way. I'm quitting while I'm ahead." Laurel chuckled to herself, Harry groaned beside her. "C'mon, no more stalling! Homework." Laurel ordered, leaning down and bringing Harry's backpack up, unzipping it for him to rummage around and surface the elusive homework.

Harry set to work, with no small amount of complaint, and Laurel returned to her stoicism. Despite her trying to maintain a happy atmosphere for her younger brother, she was not, in fact, happy. Opposite them was a dark, wooden door, a glinting plate denoted it as the office of "Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic."

Laurel's stomach turned with her nerves, as inside that door was Bagnold herself, as well as Professor Dumbledore and Remus. As far as Laurel could decipher, Dumbledore had offered to arrange a meeting between the Minister and the famous Harry Potter's guardian. Laurel has no doubt in her mind that Dumbledore was once again covertly fighting to reinstate her influence over Harry, fighting to take Harry away from Laurel and Remus. By the time the mysterious door had opened, an entire hour had passed and Harry was fidgeting beside Laurel in annoyance.

"Laurel," Harry implored, Laurel faced him expectantly, "When are they gonna be done?" Laurel sighed.

"I don't know, Harry. I'm not—" Laurel paused. Okay, so she was playing the 'psychic,' so that argument wouldn't work. Before she had time to think of another response, the door opened swiftly and its three occupants exited the office.

"It was good meeting you, Remus." The Minister said with a smile lighting her face, shaking a stunned Remus' hand.

"Uh—you too, Minister." Remus stuttered, causing Millicent Bagnold's smile to widen fondly. The smile disappeared, however, when she turned to Dumbledore, who had thus far remained silent.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure I'll see you very soon." She said plainly, Laurel was surprised to note that it seemed Bagnold was not entirely fond of Dumbledore. Bagnold nodded her head in goodbye to Remus and re-entered her office, closing the door behind herself.

Remus turned hardened eyes towards Dumbledore, and was stared at in turn by Dumbledore's unusually blank gaze. Laurel furrowed her brow, and stood, tugging Harry up to stand beside her. Remus broke their stare and shook his head, looking disappointedly at the ground then walked towards them.

"Ready?" He sighed, scrubbing one hand over his tired eyes. Laurel gave him a slight, comforting smile and nodded, then nudged Harry forward. They began to walk away from the office when they were stopped by Dumbledore.

"Miss Potter." He called firmly, "A word, if you please." Dumbledore smiled encouragingly at Laurel, but his eyes remained frozen behind his half-moon spectacles. Laurel warily moved back towards him, shaking Remus' protective hand from her shoulder. She came to a stop a few feet before him, chin raised and managing to look defiant despite her having to tilt her head backwards to find his eyes.

"Miss Potter, as I understand it, you are to be joining us at Hogwarts next year?" Dumbledore wondered, voice disarmingly light. Laurel nodded her head once firmly. "You must be pleased of that fact…being so fond of Hogwarts? Running there, as you did." Dumbledore referenced that night five years previous, the night that the rat escaped from her grasps.

"Yes, Professor. Tremendously pleased." Laurel said flatly, uncomfortable smile fliting across her features as she tried to decipher the motivations behind his line of questioning.

"I must inform you, at my school there are rules in place to discourage rule breaking," Dumbledore began, "No…night-time wandering, or disturbing the staff…no rats as pets, etcetera." He trailed off, silvery blue eyes piercing Laurel's. Laurel paused for some time, before her smile widened genuinely.

"Of course, Professor. You'll soon find me to be the picture of a perfect student." Laurel reassured him, tone as falsely light as his, "Until then, Headmaster." She nodded her head in farewell and left him without another word, joining her brother and godfather. Once down the hall and out of Dumbledore's hearing, Laurel asked Remus how his meeting with the Minister had gone.

"Uh—surprisingly well." Remus said with light, smiling eyes, continuing incredulously, "Her younger brother is a werewolf, part of a pack in Serbia." Beside him Laurel huffed a laugh at their luck, that Dumbledore had been faced with a werewolf-ally as a Minister in his effort to triumph Remus.

Later, when Laurel was sitting at her home with her family, in a daze of happiness, Laurel reminisced on her conversation with the Headmaster of Hogwarts. She was not sure, but it seemed as though Dumbledore was just begging for her rebellion; listing rules he wished for her to break. The next year, Laurel's first year at Hogwarts, was looking as though it would be an exciting one.


	20. Prologue: Novus

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Prologue: Novus [New]**

 **31 August 1989. 7:03pm**

Laurel's hands danced across the heavy, leather-bound tomes which had spilled onto her bed. Her eyes brightened as she eased the closest one open, it being a decidedly handsome book of soft, brown pleather with tastefully yellowed parchment pages, and scanned the pages. The pages fell open to a depiction of a wizard's transformation from man to hare, advanced transfiguration. It surprised Laurel to no end that she still maintained this absolute fascination with magic in all her years in this world. Though, she surmised that it was only natural, after coming from such a stark reality.

But there was no use dwelling. Not when she had such magic at her fingertips, she smiled widely. Laurel sat back further on her bed and settled into the covers, grabbing another book. Flipping it open, there were pages and pages of words that flowed and curved delicately, she landed on an avid description of a Bowtruckle's emotions as seen through minutely changing facial expressions.

"Laurel!" She was startled out of her revelry by a shout sounding quite close to her ear. Laurel snapped the book shut and looked to the side, to see her brother's face smiling down at her. "What are you reading?" He continued with calmness contrasting with his earlier shout.

"My school books." She relented, his nose scrunched up half-heartedly.

"Again?" Laurel laughed at his confusion.

"Yes, again." She swiped her books off to the side and turned to face him, patting the bed beside her. He clambered up and leant back with her against the wall. "You gonna be okay without me here?" Laurel asked with some trepidation. Harry was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful expression overtaking his features.

"Yeah." He said decidedly. "I'll be there too in two years, anyway." Laurel nodded to herself, smiling with relief. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

"Hmm…" Laurel hummed indecisively, she had given this some thought but could never make up her mind, "I have no idea." She admitted, "I guess I'll find out tomorrow."

"What about me?" Harry looked at her with hopeful eyes, "What house do you think I'll be in?" Laurel's smile widened and her eyes softened as she looked towards her brother.

"Gryffindor." She said with absolute certainty, "Like Mum and Dad."

"Really?" Harry looked unsure, Laurel laughed lightly and ruffled his hair.

"You are _such_ a Gryffindor." Laurel said, thinking to herself that he would at least prove himself to be over the coming years. She felt saddened by her thoughts, but brightened at remembering that he wouldn't have it quite so hard, if she had any say in it.

"I'm gonna miss you." Harry said suddenly, a crease appearing on his forehead. Laurel sighed deeply.

"I'll miss you too." She pulled him towards her and squeezed him in a tight hug, tucking his wild-haired head under her chin.

"You'll write?"

"'Course I will."

There was a lull in conversation, both Harry and Laurel sat in contented silence with each other on the bed. Laurel was imagining to herself just what going to Hogwarts could mean for her; certainly more freedom to try and affect some change…any change. Thus far she had remained disappointed in herself, all plans failing save the one to rescue Harry from those dreaded Dursleys.

"What's a Nargle?" Laurel was startled by Harry's sudden question, she looked over to see him warily holding a brightly coloured edition of _The Quibbler_. He turned it around and studied it with narrowed eyes, Laurel laughed.

"I have no idea." She admitted, trying to remember, "I think they steal things…and are in fact non-existent? Or, at least they may be non-existent…" Laurel trailed off, before shrugging her shoulders. Harry hummed and furrowed his brow in confusion, placing the magazine off to the side.

"Oh!" Harry suddenly perked up, turning a bright smile towards Laurel, "Remus wanted to see you!" Laurel looked back at him with disbelief.

"He sent you in here?" Laurel questioned, Harry nodded succinctly in return, "Half an hour ago…and now you tell me?"

"Yes." Harry said simply, ducking away from Laurel's soft slap aimed at his head with a smile, picking up the _Quibbler_ once more and hiding his smile behind it.

Laurel slid off the bed and bounded out of the room and into the lounge room. She sat heavily on the lounge opposite to Remus, who was patiently studying the _Daily Prophet_ , lit by the soft light of the lamp beside him.

"You wished to see me…" Laurel hummed demurely. Remus folded the newspaper and held it in one hand, greeting her with his usual tired, smiling eyes.

"All set for Hogwarts?" He asked, his eyes clouded over and he looked identifiably nostalgic; Remus often remembered his days at Hogwarts as the some of the best of his life, his own first year had been almost a decade ago.

"Yep." Laurel said shortly in an effort to contain her excitement. Where she had come from, it was every Muggle's dream to go to Hogwarts. So, even with the serious threats she was facing, her excitement abounded.

"I got you a gift…for you to take to Hogwarts." Remus stood and strode around the lounge, bending down to pick up a basket which Laurel just noticed was sitting by the door. He set it down gently on the lounge beside her and flipped the lid up. Laurel slid over and peered into it, amazed to find two blue eyes staring back.

"Rroww!" What could only be described as a whimpering howl sounded and Laurel beamed up at a despondent Remus when she realised what she had gotten.

"I thought you said no pets." Laurel reminded him as she picked up the cat, cuddling it to her chest. She looked up at Remus as she tried to hold the squirming cat in her arms and was amused to see that he was staring at the cat with no small amount of contempt for it, apparently werewolves were not exactly fond of cats.

"I…want you to have someone with you at Hogwarts, at least until Harry gets there." He finished quickly, Laurel laughed loudly at him.

"No way, he's here for good." Laurel buried her cheek in the cat's cream-coloured fur, a grey-brown, bushy tail smacked her in the face.

"Rroww." The cat settled on her lap, claws kneading into her pants, Laurel winced but her smile remained.

"I love him." She said with finality, reaching up and hugging her godfather, "Thank you." Remus hugged her back, not letting go until the cat swiped a heavy paw at his chest.

"A cat?" Harry interjected from the hall, he leaped into the room and sat on the couch, "Do I get a pet?" He wondered, but he was swiftly shut down by Remus assuring him that he would think about when Harry went off to Hogwarts too.

Laurel sat back down next to her brother and the cat leapt out of her arms, he pounced around the room and began inspecting every crevice, one blue eye trained suspiciously on Remus. She was certainly excited for Hogwarts, but it would be hard to leave her family behind for so long.


	21. Transvectiō

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter One: Transvectiō [Crossing]**

 **1 September 1989. 10:45am**

Laurel Potter rushed along the starkly numbered platforms of King's Cross Station, pulling her brother along with one outstretched hand. She beamed in excitement when they suddenly stopped between Platforms Nine and Ten.

"Oh, man." She whispered amazedly to herself, intently studying the seemingly normal barrier which she was to use to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Laurel glanced behind her as Remus came to a stop, halting the cart carrying her trunk with an exhausted sigh. The newly named cat Luke was grumbling lightly in his carrier atop the trunk at the sharp movement, but soon quietened once more.

Laurel shared an excited glance with Harry, "Let's go!" She exclaimed, dragging him directly towards the barrier, Remus trying to protest behind them. With a cringe and a grin, Laurel led them both through the barrier and out the other side. She shook off the odd feeling and pulled them to the side just in time for Remus to drive the cart and himself through after them.

"Oof." Harry grunted, sharing a wide-eyed glance with her, both shaking off the weird feeling of walking directly into an outwardly solid wall. Upon looking around, Laurel immediately spotted the giant, cherry-red and black steam engine: the _Hogwart's Express_. She beamed at the sight of the train and went to step forward but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Not so fast." Remus said with an amused smile, parking the cart over near a vacant wall and turning to Laurel. She returned his smile sheepishly and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Final goodbyes, then you can go find the twins." Laurel's smile turned wry and somewhat sad, she launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around her godfather's middle.

"I'm gonna miss you…let's keep this short and sweet, so I don't cry." Laurel said firmly, stepping away with her smile remaining steadfast.

"I'll miss you too, Laur." Remus said softly.

"And me, I'll miss you too." Harry interjected, attacking Laurel in another hug. Laurel staggered as she caught him and squeezed him tightly, letting go after a moment that felt too short to her.

"I'll see you two at Christmas. And I'll write!" Laurel managed, looking between her two family members before promptly surging in to wrap them both in a final embrace.

"Almost eleven!" Remus reminded them.

Laurel broke away and turned to her cart, rolling it away swiftly. Laurel sent a quick smile behind her, catching one last look at the two before turning back and scanning her eyes over the crowd. She was looking for a collection of red hair, shouldn't be too difficult.

"Aha!" She exclaimed, drowned out by the chattering noise of the other wizarding families around her. Laurel edged around the people in the direction of the Weasley family, one eye fixed on the tallest: Mr Weasley.

"Laurel!" Twin shouts exclaimed, she could just see Fred and George's heads bob over to her, squashing through the fray.

"Oh! Quick, quick!" Mrs Weasley's worried voice called after the two, Laurel was intercepted by the twins who threw an arm each around her on either side.

"You're late, Laur!" One twin screeched in her ear.

"Oh, terribly late! Surely we'll miss the train!" The other countered, then they both fell into laughter at Laurel's fondly unamused stare. She soon broke into a smile and laughed with her friends.

"Laurel, dear! You're here! Quickly, you three." Mrs Weasley fretted over the three and ushered them towards the train, "Charlie, help Laurel with her trunk!"

Charlie's freckled face swam into view, he greeted Laurel happily and took her trunk from the cart, lugging it onto the train. Laurel quickly snatched Luke's carrier and held him close to her, chuckling at the disgruntled meows that quietly accompanied his move.

"Augh! Charlie, look at this beast!" Fred exclaimed as he peered at Laurel's cat through a gap in the wicker.

"More fearsome than any dragon, I think!" George added, Laurel pushed their heads away and boarded the train after Charlie. The twins followed her after receiving their final, unwelcome kisses and hugs from their mother, both groaning in embarrassment.

Laurel edged along the train's corridor, glancing into each compartment as she passed them to find where Charlie had ended up. As she hurried along, she saw the assortment of students and counted herself lucky to be amongst them.

"Wotcher, Laurel!" She saw Nymphadora Tonks' beaming face pop out of a compartment three doors along, one hand waving madly at her. Laurel beamed right back and dragged the two dawdling twins behind her forward and into the compartment.

Charlie, with massive help from Tonks, was shoving Laurel's trunk into the overhead storage, along with Fred's and George's. Laurel collapsed onto the seat with a sigh and placed Luke's carrier beside her.

"Thanks, you two." She called emphatically after Charlie and Tonks, who had left for their own compartments, Charlie going to the very front to be with his fellow prefects. Fred and George both landed on the opposite seat to Laurel, quickly emptying their pockets of what Filch would likely call contraband.

"What's all this?" Laurel asked confusedly, both their heads snapped up and they shot her identically mischievous smiles.

"Mum wouldn't let us bring the vast majority of our belongings—"

"Most prized belongings—"

"Yes! _Most_ prized, our beloved dungbombs—"

"—murderous tea-cups—"

"—deadly sweets—"

"—fire-catching quills—"

"—spewing Frisbees—"

"—a rather offensive xylophone—"

"—cannibalistic shoes—"

"—wait, do the shoes eat toes or other shoes?" Fred wondered suddenly, George paused and looked thoughtful.

"I don't really know..." George trailed off, "Either way, quite funny!" He cried, Fred nodded decisively in agreement.

"Evasive keys—"

"—explode-y—"

"Okay!" Laurel suddenly interjected their joint recollection of pranking products, "I get it! Pranks, your Mum doesn't like them, didn't want to enable you." She smiled happily at their dynamic.

"Yes! But, we being the incredible—"

"—brilliant—"

"—and, may I say, devilishly handsome—"

"—you may!" Fred exclaimed, George collapsed into hysterics, then quickly caught his breath once again.

"Pranksters that we are..." George continued.

"We thought of a brilliant scheme to keep our pranks!" Fred finished with a beaming smile, Laurel furrowed her brow at the two.

"Hiding them in your pockets?" She wondered.

"Exactly!" They exclaimed together.

"So simple, yet so genius." George said with false modesty, collapsing into giggles once more, which made Fred and Laurel start to giggle as well.

They were interrupted when the train stuttered to a start and began to roll out of the station.

"Uh, oh." The twins lamented simultaneously, turning to each other with wide, panicked eyes. They scrambled off the seat and to the window, plastering their faces against the glass and waving once they caught sight of their fuming mother and amused father. Laurel leaned over and peeked out, just managing to catch a glimpse of the couple, she did not envy the twins for how their mother was ranting to Mr Weasley, by their reactions it was about them.

"What's that about?" She asked.

"We forgot to say bye to Mum..." Fred admitted, they both slumped back into their seats. Laurel snorted at the two of them and shook her head with incredulity.

"Forgot the time..." George added.

"You two are hopeless." Laurel muttered fondly, turning around to fiddle with the clasp on Luke's carrier.

"Since when do you have a cat?" Fred asked, Laurel looked at him obviously as she opened the hatch and Luke jumped out.

"Since now..." She laughed, "Since yesterday, actually. Going away present."

"Ugh, we didn't get anything!" Fred lamented, eyeing the prowling cat with both envy and trepidation at his intermittent grumbling.

"He's supposed to be my company." Laurel said, "You have each other for that!" She smiled expectantly, and she was not disappointed.

"Agh! Company!"

"Oh, we have _each other_ , do we?" Both twins groaned, twisting their faces in mock disgust.

"Don't be idiots." Laurel scolded them half-heartedly with a laugh bubbling up in her throat.

"These two, not be idiots? Impossible." A voice intoned from the open door of their compartment. Laurel looked over to see Percy standing straight with his customarily patronizing expression overtaking his features.

"Ha, ha, Perce." Fred said in a monotone, before scrunching up his face and ushering Percy to move on.

"You're too mean to him." Laurel lamented, she bent down and cuddled Luke to her chest, ruffling the fluffy curls on his belly. The twins stared at her in shock.

"What? Us be mean to him? He's the one who called us idiots..." George exclaimed, grumbling to his brother. Laurel just laughed and nodded her head lightly in reluctant agreement.

"What's his name, then?" Fred interjected suddenly, nodding towards her cat.

"Luke." She said simply, they both looked confused.

"Luke? Just Luke?" Fred clarified, Laurel nodded.

"But, that's a people name? Why not name him 'Whiskers' or 'Fluffy'? You could even name him after a famous wizard, like 'Dumbledore!'" George was equally confused.

"I am not naming my cat Dumbledore." She said flatly before continuing, "And I'll have you know, Luke _is_ named for a very powerful wizard!" Laurel protested in amusement.

"Oh yeah, well I've never heard of some wizard named 'Luke.'"

"Oh, you've never heard of Luke Skywalker?" Laurel asked sarcastically, already knowing the answer.

"No!"

"Never!" George agreed with his brother.

Laurel fell into laughter, disturbing Luke who then returned to the floor of the compartment and continued to pace. Honestly, even her father James had been a fan. After Lily had introduced him to Star Wars, he named their first cat Han. Laurel was disappointed in her friends.

"I'll have to show you sometime, you'll like him!" She assured them, they still seemed dubious.

And so, after four games of Exploding Snap, two games of regular Snap, a brief interlude of a visit from Tonks and a particularly rousing recount of the entire original trilogy, the sky was beginning to turn a dusky pink and orange, and the Hogwarts Express neared Hogwarts. Laurel had gone to the bathroom and changed into her uniform; it was insane how excited she was by just wearing that famous uniform. She had just returned to their compartment when the train had creaked to a stop.

"Finally!" Fred moaned, standing up and stretching his arms above his head with a groan. Laurel put Luke back in his cage, leaving him on the seat to be brought up with the rest of the luggage.

"Oh, no! Half a day of gorging yourself on sweets and playing card games!" Laurel mocked him with a smile, and shooed the giggling twins out of the compartment and into the crowd of students exiting the train along the corridor.

"Firs' years this way!" She could hear a booming voice shout over the chatter of the crowd, recognising it immediately as Hagrid's.

Laurel quickly snatched Fred's hand before he was lost in the crowd, and he in turn snatched George's wrist. She shook her head exasperatedly at their complaining of having to hold onto each other, and pulled them both with a sharp tug in the direction of Hagrid's voice, and the glowing yellow light from his lantern.

"Hullo there, Laurel!" She beamed up at Hagrid and gave a quick wave, "And these must be the Weasley twins." Hagrid grinned back at them all, before quickly returning to rounding up all the straggling first years.

"This way, firs' years!" Hagrid's booming voice sounded even louder as he began to walk along the platform of Hogsmeade Station. The excited chatter of new students followed him, Laurel, Fred and George along with them.

They trudged off the station and up a winding pathway through a towering group of trees, their way lit only by Hagrid's shining lantern and the dimly shining stars that intermittently poked through when the trees became sparse. After a short while walking through the disparagingly muddy path, the trees suddenly stopped and gave way to a pebbled bank, dozens of tiny wooden boats dotted the shore of the Black Lake.

Laurel's eyes brightened at the sight of them, before her attention was sought by the towering castle across the lake. Hogwarts castle stood tall over a valley in the distance, mountains loomed behind; it was an organised and haphazard conglomeration of towers which rose high into the sky, short and long halls, dipping and rising tiled roofs. Countless tiny windows were lit with soft, warm light and Laurel's heart warmed with her amazement that she felt for the castle alone.

It gave anyone who looked upon it the very clear understanding that there was magic there; the castle itself, in its walls, turrets and towers, exuded magic. She suddenly understood what had been said about the castle many times before, it felt like she was coming home.


	22. Genus

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Two: Genus [Class]**

 **1 September 1989. 6:13pm**

Laurel stood with the other first years in a small hall awaiting their entrance to the Great Hall for their sorting. She rubbed her arms in an effort to warm them, and scuffed one shoe along the stone floor.

"I heard you have to solve a riddle." Laurel heard one frightened voice say behind her, she smiled despite the genuine fear clouding their tone.

"No way!" Fred exclaimed from beside her, she winced at the loudness of his voice being quite close to her ear.

"I heard we have to fight a banshee." George added.

"No, a troll." Fred said matter-of-factly, poking one finger into his brother's shoulder.

"Stop scaring the Muggleborns, you guys." Laurel said reluctantly, before turning to face the rest of the group, "Everyone's sorted into houses by a hat that can read your mind." She informed them, voice faltering as she realised how that sounded by her explanation. The dozens of scared faces turned either disbelieving or even more terrified.

"Psh, yeah right!" One boy scoffed, shaking his head.

"But...how does it read your mind?" A rather short girl asked, wide eyes overtaking her scared, pale face.

"Magic..." Laurel said eventually, trailing off with a shrug of her shoulders. Before the girl could ask any further questions, they were interrupted by a heavy click as the door behind them swung open. A tall, severe-looking woman entered. The woman was dressed in emerald green robes and a pointed hat sat tilted on her head, her black hair was pulled tightly back into a bun: Professor McGonagall had returned. She opened her mouth to speak but was promptly interrupted.

"Hello!" One of the twins exclaimed happily, Laurel glanced to the side and looked disbelievingly at both, unable to determine who she had heard. McGonagall glanced up over the piece of parchment in her hands that she was reading, mouth pursed in a thin line, eyes narrowed at the twins.

"You must be the Weasley twins..." She said shortly, and then continued in a lower mutter to herself, "We've all been warned about you two." Laurel could see that the twins had heard this and were now beaming with unrestrained pride at their infamy.

"If you will form an orderly line, and follow me." McGonagall said, all of the First Years scrambled to acquiesce, none of them eager to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

Laurel lined up behind Fred and George, who were surprisingly compliant in following McGonagall's instruction. McGonagall led them out of the small chamber, across the Entrance Hall and through the towering set of double doors leading to the Great Hall.

Each of the First Years' faces lit up in wonder at the sight before them: hundreds upon hundreds of candles floated in the air above the heads of countless students, lighting the hall with a yellow glow, further above them was the famed enchanted ceiling with millions of twinkling stars covering every inch, mimicking the night sky outside.

Laurel's gaze drifted steadily down, wandering over the students who sat at the four long tables, the First years marched between the middle two until they reached the front of the Hall. Her eyes rested on the front table of the Great Hall where a dozen or so teachers were seated along the back of the table, each focused on the line of First years that steadily fell into a group before them.

In front of them, Professor McGonagall placed a rickety, four-legged stool on the platform before the high table, then placed the raggedy Sorting Hat precariously on the stool. The Sorting Hat's pointed tip wriggled then crooked to the side as a rip in its front widened into a grin, two creases above its mouth blinked open to reveal themselves as eyes.

The Hall was silent, save for a few scattered awkward coughs and sniffles, as everyone in attendance, including Laurel, stared at the frayed, dirty Hat on the stool. The Hat's grin widened further and it began to sing:

" _Many years have swiftly passed by_

 _Since I was a young listless hat,_

 _I look back on them with a sigh,_

 _And decide to tell you all flat._

 _I was made for this here purpose_

 _By four young, hopeless magicals,_

 _Not just one was a vexed serpent,_

 _Their unity was frankly a miracle._

 _That four so different people_

 _Could collaborate so fully,_

 _Was a feat with no sure equal,_

 _But we can beat that, surely!_

 _We must gather the Gryffindors_

 _With their bravery and daring,_

 _And hearts so delightfully pure_

 _Look at them there, just raring!_

 _We must gather the Hufflepuffs_

 _With their patience and loyalty,_

 _There are none more worthy of trust_

 _They sit ready to pledge their fealty!_

 _We must gather the Ravenclaws_

 _With their intelligence and wit,_

 _Will rally behind your good cause_

 _None better you'll find to commit!_

 _We must gather the Slytherins_

 _With their cunning and ambition,_

 _No others will secure your wins_

 _A certainly worthy addition!_

 _The Lions and Badgers we tether_

 _To the Eagles and Serpents!_

 _With our houses all together,_

 _We'll not be beaten, it's certain._

 _So step up wizards and witches,_

 _And we'll have a good, long chat._

 _I'll put you all where you most belong,_

 _Then that'll be all from this old hat."_

Laurel smiled wide, her hands automatically came together along with the others that were around her, and her ears were ringing at the applause which echoed through the hall as everyone within applauded the Hat's song. Despite how cheesy the song may sound when it's read, there was something heartening about hearing a sentient hat sing an ode for its school.

The Hat's grin softened and it bowed its pointed tip to each of the four Houses at their tables, then finished with a deep bow towards the First years in the front, finally stilling once more. Around her, Laurel could hear a majority of her future classmates sigh in relief as they realised that she had been telling the truth, they just had to try on the hat.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her roll of parchment held high in front of her chest, eyes peering through her glasses at the paper.

"Come forward to be sorted when I call your name." She said, shortly glancing up at their eager faces then back down at the parchment.

"Adams, Stanley." McGonagall called firstly, a small, chubby boy toddled to the stage to be sorted.

Laurel's attention drifted as Adams, Stanley was sorted to Hufflepuff, and she began to wonder what House she would be sorted to. She knew well and good that each House had its merits, even Slytherin. Though, she supposed that the amount of murderous children that would soon be, or already had been, sorted to the House, it didn't exactly sound like a relaxing, welcoming atmosphere. So, no go on Slytherin.

She pondered Ravenclaw; but then remembered that one had to be tremendously intelligent in some way or another to make it in the House. Though Laurel wasn't exactly stupid, she would likely not quite fit in with the Ravenclaws. Her mind drifted to Gryffindor, and she internally grimaced; bravery? Laurel didn't think that applied to her, exactly. The only remaining House is Hufflepuff, and Laurel had always respected the 'Puffs, being admirable in their loyalty and trustworthiness.

Honestly, Laurel had no idea what House she would be sorted into. Though, she supposed she could take a leaf out of Harry's book and ask to be placed in the House of her choosing. From a strategic standpoint, Gryffindor House was where all the action occurred. Laurel tilted her head in consideration, twisting her mouth in a concentrated grimace.

"Potter, Laurel." Luckily, she had turned her attention back to McGonagall just as her name was called. Laurel startled and quickly edged forward in between the remaining First years, she could hear Fred and George whispering encouragements behind her. She stepped up the few steps and sat on the stool, McGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat onto her head, the last thing she saw was the crowd of students whispering furtively amongst themselves, undoubtedly about her famous little brother.

"Oh, very interesting," The Sorting Hat's interested voice drifted around her mind, she shivered at the feeling of its quiet, trickling voice, its voice lowered even further, "You're not from here, are you?" It chuckled throatily as Laurel's eyes widened in panic.

"Now, now," Its voice soothed, "I won't tell." Another hoarse chuckle. "I can see you've thought about your Sorting?" The Hat said in a questioning tone. Laurel nodded her head slightly downwards, it hummed in response.

"Sound reasoning," The Sorting Hat complimented, "I've never been one to stand in the way of a determined student," Its voice grew louder and it shouted, "Gryffindor, it is!"

The long table to her right erupted in applause for her, she beamed at her fellow Gryffindors once the Hat had been lifted from her head. She slid off the stool and slinked over to the table, shooting a pleased glance at the twins who had yet to be sorted. Laurel was greeted by the Gryffindors with open arms, she squeezed into a seat near the end, a few of the older students welcoming her to their House.

After a few more minutes of other First years being sorted, McGonagall called, "Weasley, Fred." Laurel craned her head to see Fred clamber up the steps and onto the stool, then the Sorting Hat fell over his eyes. It was quiet for a moment, Fred's shoulders began to shake in a quiet chuckle.

Before Laurel had time to be confused, the Hat proclaimed, "Gryffindor!" Fred took off the Hat and stepped off the stool, he walked swiftly to the table, sitting beside Laurel.

"Congrats, Fred." She said, raising her voice to be heard over the dull roar surrounding them, he just snorted in response.

"I'm George," He admitted with a sheepish grin, "Ol' Sorty's a sly one...he knew right away!" George turned and shot his brother a thumbs down as he was called to be sorted. As Fred sat on the stool his nose crinkled and his shoulders drooped in disappointment. Laurel looked between the two with incredulity.

"It uses legilimency, George." Laurel flicked him in the neck lightly, making him cringe away, "How did you not realise it would read your mind and figure it out?" She dissolved into laughter along with him, then turned to cheer as the actual Fred was similarly sorted into Gryffindor.

Fred bounded over to the table with a sly, beaming smile overtaking his face, he crashed into George and sat beside his brother, causing a rather unlucky First year to go crashing into the boy beside her.

"He said it was a good prank!" Fred bragged, George beamed back, but before he could say anything a throat was cleared from the front of the Hall. Every head in the Hall simultaneously turned to the front, and all the students quietened down once they saw Dumbledore standing patiently and waiting for their attention.

"If I could have your attention for a moment." He started loudly, "I would like to welcome our First years," Dumbledore smiled at the ends of each of the four tables where they were mostly seated, "not to forget each and every returning student, to a new year at Hogwarts." His arms swept out to gesture to the entire hall, remaining outstretched as if he wished to embrace the hundreds of students seated there.

"And, without further ado, the real reason we have come here on this joyous night!" Dumbledore's hands flourished and the tables before him suddenly held hundreds upon hundreds of silver platters heavily laden with food.

The chattering filled the Hall once more as Dumbledore took his seat, the students quickly began scrambling to fill their plates. Laurel stared down at the food before her; she could see immediately before her no less than ten whole turkeys, six plates of roasted potatoes, a rather delicate tower of meat pies, several pots of different warmly coloured curries, what looked like a lonesome game hen, some smaller plates of golden chicken nuggets and a plate piled high with roasted sweet potatoes. Glancing further up the table she saw even more food.

"Whoa, I am in Heaven." Laurel said with certainty, whether or not she actually believed in an afterlife was not at the forefront of her mind when faced with this veritable banquet.


	23. Peculium

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Three: Peculium [Peculiar]**

 **3 September 1989. 10:24am**

Laurel quickly ducked behind the remnants of a crumbling pillar as she saw a red-haired head round the corner. She leant against the rocky side of a nearby wall and sunk down to sit on her backside, puffing lightly as she caught her breath. It was their second full day at Hogwarts, and it just so happened to be a Sunday. With their being no actual learning yet, Fred and George had taken advantage of the situation and persuaded the entirety of the Second and Third years, as well as a considerable portion of the remaining students, to participate in a school-wide game of hide-and-go-seek tag.

She glanced up to see an older student barrel-roll across the court yard, and let loose a snort. Immediately, the student caught her gaze and both of their eyes widened. Laurel immediately stood in a crouch and retreated from her vulnerable position, dashing for a nearby hall. She collided with a doorway and clung to it, the older student beside her.

"Think they heard?" He asked quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, I think they did." Laurel and the boy whipped their heads around to see the twins standing a few feet behind them, both with identically gleeful smiles stretching wide across their faces.

"Uh, oh." Laurel muttered, then quickly ran down the hall away from them, feeling slightly ashamed at the other student's cry of disappointment as he was eliminated from the game. She whipped her head around to look behind her, and squeaked when she saw that one of the twins was gaining on her. "C'mon, you'd tag your own friend?" Laurel cried out.

"You bet I would!" He shouted merrily, promptly reaching out and tapping her shoulder.

"Augh." Laurel came to a sudden stop, the twin crashed into her.

"Blech!" He exclaimed as they both fell to the ground.

"Whoa, dangerous sports...don't like 'em." Laurel mumbled to herself as she got to her feet, sweeping the dust off of her knees.

"Oi, Fred, you get her?" George called down the hall, Fred shot him a double thumbs up as he stood.

 **4 September 1989. 9:14am**

It was the first day of classes, and the twins had already caused Laurel to be over twenty minutes late for their first class. As Laurel ran along the corridor she tried to scrub the bright blue glitter out of her hair, not one sparkle budged.

"Miss Potter?" Laurel startled, slamming into a suit of armour as she rounded a corner. She tumbled to the ground with a shout. _This is the second time in two days...Hogwarts is not good for my health_ , she thought grumpily, cringing at the continued clashing of the armour as it smashed into the ground beside her. Laurel looked up guiltily.

"Professor McGonagall?" She winced, gripping her hair tightly in nervous fingers, continuing to try and fruitlessly scrub it clean.

"What on Earth...happened to you—?"

"Fred and George." She said shortly, jumping up and looking around at the armour strewn along the corridor, before deciding it was beyond her help. "I have to get to class."

"Transfiguration?" Professor McGonagall asked, raising one unimpressed brow, Laurel smiled sheepishly and nodded. McGonagall sighed, "Come along, then." Laurel perked up and jumped over a rusted helmet, following McGonagall down the corridor.

"Oi, pick me up!" Laurel heard the helmet yell after them, but she paid the ghost-helmet no mind, making it shout some rather explicit curses in her direction. They walked briskly through the deserted halls, Laurel hopping every now and then when she falls behind due to her shorter legs; with each hop a flurry of glitter falls from her hair and dusts over the stone floors.

"Here we are." McGonagall stopped in front of a pair of open doors, gesturing her in with an outstretched arm. Laurel smiled at her sheepishly and entered, spotting Fred and George's red haired heads ducked together in the second to last row of tables. She narrowed her eyes on them and swiftly moved through the tables to sit beside them.

"You two are dead." Laurel muttered out of the corner of her mouth, both of their heads swivelled to look at her, and they simultaneously broke into fits of giggles at the sight of her black hair covered in purple sparkles; a tame prank for them, but ultimately classic.

 **4 September 1989. 1:06pm**

With amends having been made during lunch between her and the twins for their prank, Laurel was sitting contentedly beside them in their final class for the day. Or, she would have been sitting contentedly had the class not been Potions. Laurel had been dreading this class, trying her very best to put it to the back of her mind, but here she now sat in the dreary dungeons, shivering from the cold, as well as from the gory potion ingredients strewn about the room. A particularly gruesome, tiny being curled up in a jar caught her eye, and a shudder overtook her body.

Aside from the reprehensible classroom state, Laurel was primarily dreading seeing Snape: the Potions teacher and, regrettably, her biological father. Though, at least, Laurel was quite sure he had no idea. She sighed, scrubbing her eyes as she suddenly felt very tired.

"Alright?" Fred asked from beside her, Laurel glanced at him to see him, and George in the next seat over, looking at her with concern.

Before she could nod in assent, the classroom door opened and the great bat himself entered. For a moment, Laurel imagined Batman entering the class, but reluctantly admitted to herself that it was the other one.

"Books out!" Snape's sharp voice broke the silence, he strode towards the front of the classroom, with a sharp wave of his wand white writing flickered into existence onto the blackboard. He turned with a flourish of his robes, and glanced around at the dozens of tiny, apprehensive faces looking back at him.

"Turn to page 17, today you'll be brewing a swelling solution...better to weed out the weak as soon as possible." Snape glared around at them, "Well?" He finished sharply, the students collectively opened their books and got to work.

Laurel examined the list of ingredients in the book, then collated with the board. Her partner, a Hufflepuff named Michael, went to the stores at her direction to fetch the ingredients, many other students did the same. Laurel took this time of silent sitting to surreptitiously examine Snape; he had been unbelievably short with them, especially for it being their very first Potions lesson. If she remembered correctly, even in Harry's first year there had been an introductory speech intended to frighten them.

Snape seemed weary, and entirely unlike what she had determined to be his usually self. His skin seemed sallower and the shadows under his eyes darker since the Welcoming Feast three days before. As she was staring, perhaps a bit too obviously than she should have, Snape suddenly glanced up and caught her eye. Before she hurriedly looked away, Laurel could have sworn that he'd turned paler.

 _Something's going on_ , Laurel decided with certainty, _maybe he does know_. Laurel certainly hoped he didn't, but she couldn't be sure. Michael returned just then, interrupting her thoughts. Laurel immediately put any thoughts of secret plots out of her mind and set about scooping the prescribed amount of dried nettles.

After an entire lesson's worth of brewing, it was safe to say that every student had failed. The best potion, one brewed by Alicia Spinnet and Cedric Diggory, was only a passable attempt. Rather than scold the entire class or even force a student to test their solution, as Laurel had expected, Snape simply bid them all to clean their cauldrons then leave.

As Laurel packed away her cauldron with no complaint, unlike Fred and George at the next table over, she took some time to examine Snape once more. He was sitting at his desk, greasy hair covering his face as he bent his head down to study the parchment he was furiously writing on. Despite her deeply ingrained instinct to despise this man who had caused her mother such pain, she felt concerned. Not exactly for the man himself, but for what his concerning actions meant for her, and for her family. Laurel knew that she must be the cause, it was too much of a coincidence that his uneasiness began days after her arrival here.

"Oi, Potter!" Fred barked out from where he lounged against the doorway, Laurel snapped to attention and bundled up her belongings. She looked around the empty classroom and a coldness overtook her. Laurel's gaze connected with Snape's for a final time, and then dropped to the ground as she followed Fred and George out of the class.

 **12 October 1989. 3:46pm**

It had been an entire month, and Laurel was still amazed by magic. She was beginning to feel annoyed at herself, for all her gushing over _transfigurations_ and _actual-real-live unicorns_ and whatnot. But, Laurel could understand why she continued to feel that way; it wasn't often that a person was able to have their dreams realised before their eyes.

Laurel smiled, wiggling her toes at the roaring fire as she sat in one of the cushiest armchairs she had ever had the privilege to sit in; she was sure that the Gryffindor common room was a contestant for the most-heavenly place in existence, if such a competition existed. For a second, she contemplated giving her common room proper recognition, but then figured that, as an inanimate room, it would not care if she appreciated it in silence.

"Oi, Laurel!" A shout suddenly came from across the room, Laurel turned at the sound of her name, kneeling to see over the back of the armchair. Fred, George, and their new addition Lee Jordan, sat on the opposite end of the common room, crowded by a table in the corner. Fred frantically waved her over, Laurel abided by his wishes with a suspicious narrowing of her eyes.

"Yes?" She asked, slowly drawing out the word.

"D'you know anything about pixies?" Her three friends looked up at her with wide eyes, she flashed them a quick smile.

"No, but the _library_ might." As she expected, they all cringed and looked at her in horror, each being entirely opposed to any form of schoolwork.

"No!" Fred shouted.

"What's wrong with you?" George added worriedly, standing to place the back of his hand against her forehead, "Are you sick?" Laurel slapped away his hand and looked between them with a dawning sense of realisation.

"You want me to go to the library...do your dirty work for you." She surmised, they each became happy once more, bright smiles overtaking their faces.

"Wow, Laur. That's so thoughtful of you!" Lee smiled cheekily up at her, Laurel snorted in response.

"Fine! I need to go to the library anyway..." She sighed, moving away towards the staircase to the girls' dormitory.

"Thank you." The twins sang after her.

Laurel retrieved her backpack, filled with a devastating amount of unfinished homework, and exited the tower, accidentally leaving the Fat Lady swinging wide open. "Oi!" Laurel startled at the surprisingly loud protest, before speedily retreating to close the portrait, leaving before the Fat Lady had a chance to chide her on the proper maintenance of secret doorways. She hurried down the halls and down the twisting staircases, soon arriving at the library.

"Shh!" Laurel was immediately greeted with a shush by the librarian, Madam Pince. She raised her hackles, but thought it not prudent to argue about what exactly constitutes an undesirable amount of noise with the faculty. _Certainly not simply walking into the library_ , she thought with a pout.

With a worrying thud, Laurel dropped her backpack onto the table, earning another angry shush, and began to walk through the many aisles of tall bookshelves. _Man_ , she thought, _if I was prone to fainting from happiness, I'd hope that the library's floor was lined with pillows_ , Laurel smiled as she dusted her fingers over the spines of the countless books.


	24. Conventus

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Four: Conventus [Convened]**

 **4 November 1989. 8:01am**

Laurel absent-mindedly scooped up a spoonful of cereal as she studied the heavy tome before her: Todd Lincoln's _Sentient Plants and How to Enslave Them_. The book was quite informative, if a bit morally unsound, and Laurel was enjoying her time scanning the pages for the answer to her essay on the many household uses for Devil's Snare, not that Laurel could find any.

"Laurel, this is a place of happiness, how dare you bring such sacrilege to the table?" Fred groaned from where he sat beside her, Laurel paid him no mind, "Oh, no...what if I were to—" Laurel abruptly slapped the hand holding the jam dish precariously close to the book away, relieved to see that the pages had not been stained.

"Okay, I see your point." Laurel shot him a smile and closed the book with a loud thud, placing it safely on the seat beside her.

"Yes!" Fred pumped a victorious fist into the air, then shared a round of high-fives with George and Lee, who both shared his view on studying at mealtimes—or at all. Laurel chuckled with affection for them, adding her own high-fives when prompted, and returned her focus to her meal.

Attending Hogwarts was an excellent exercise in restraint; Laurel could absolutely indulge in the platters upon platters of waffles, pancakes, muffins and doughnuts, but she didn't. With a wistful stare over to one such platter, she swallowed another scoop of her cereal, suddenly reminded of its comparison to pencil shavings. Laurel looked down at the cereal, pushing around one of the mushy 'O's with her spoon—she wouldn't be surprised if that statement rang true.

"What do we have up first?" George asked the table, swivelling his head to look at his fellow Gryffindor first years.

"History of Magic." Laurel replied diligently, not bothering to be disappointed in George, and likely Fred and Lee as well, for his continued ignorance towards their shared timetable.

"Ugh," Fred groaned along with the rest of the table, "At least it's Friday." He smiled around hopefully, not getting a particularly enthusiastic response.

"Excuse me, are you Laurel Potter?" A wide-eyed third-year Hufflepuff suddenly appeared across the table from Laurel, who looked up and nodded sleepily, "I was asked to bring you this." The girl handed her a sealed letter and swept off without another word, Laurel blinked at the letter in her hands and brought it closer to study—there was no writing on the outside.

With a shrug, Laurel ripped open the scarlet wax seal and unfolded the letter. A singular line of green, flowing writing proclaimed:

"Miss Potter, I would request a meeting after your last class for the day in the Headmaster's office."

It was signed diligently, "Albus Dumbledore." Laurel folded the letter back in on itself and glanced up at the head table where a few of the professors, including Dumbledore, were gathered. Dumbledore did not look up, too preoccupied with his stack of whipped-cream covered waffles to sense her gaze. Laurel's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she decided to reserve judgement until the actual meeting, so she slipped the letter into her robe pocket.

"What is it?" Lee interjected around a mouthful of toast, Laurel stared blankly at him in disgust at the glimpse of chewed food he had shown her.

"Nothing." She smiled, deciding that boys of eleven were inclined to be gross—not much could be done for them.

 **4 November 1989. 5:13pm**

After her classes for the day—an hour after, actually, as she had decided that Dumbledore could wait until she had nipped into the Great Hall for a quick bite—Laurel arrived at the bottom of the staircases to the Headmaster's office. However, upon realising that she had not been given a password for the grimacing gargoyle before her, Laurel stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh, shoot." Laurel approached the gargoyle with trepidation, "Uh, hello...Mr. Gargoyle?" Its cold, stone eyes remained fixated on some point far above her head—though, she could swear that his pupils had rolled up fractionally. "Password..." She mumbled to herself, then decided to guess; Dumbledore's passwords had always centred around one theme.

"Fizzing whizzbees...liquorice wand...fudge flies...sugar quill...chocoballs...treacle tart..." Laurel groaned, staring pleadingly up at the gargoyle, "I don't know every sweet in existence, you...stone—"

There was a smooth scraping noise as the gargoyle retreated and a spiralling staircase began to emerge. Laurel's eyes widened and she stepped forward, glancing up to see Dumbledore standing inside of his open office door.

"Hmm." She mumbled non-committedly, stepping onto the still-rotating staircase and traversing the steps until she reached the top. Laurel stopped with a stutter, and entered into the Headmaster's office with a sigh, "You didn't tell me the password." She noted lightly, trying to decide for herself whether that was a mischievous or unintentional act on Dumbledore's part.

"I apologise." A smile flickered through his serious expression as he sat heavily into the high-backed chair behind his desk. "I do hope you weren't left guessing for too long."

"No, it's fine." She conceded, moving across the room and sitting in one of the two chairs opposite his desk, her attention soon caught by a tiny, metal figurine of what she surmised was a thestral. It jumped up and its hooves hit the wooden desk with four tiny, successive clinks, a bony tail whipped around and knocked over a mug filled with quills. Laurel swiftly caught the mug before it shattered, a smile overtaking her face, she looked back at Dumbledore seriously, "Why've you called me here?"

"Ah." Dumbledore said shortly, head bowing fractionally, "I'm afraid you'll not be too impressed with me." Laurel narrowed her eyes and silently urged him to continue. "I do not know how much you are aware of, but your father—" Laurel cut him off with a daring swipe of her hand to raise it between them.

"This isn't going where I think it is, is it?" She grimaced, looking up at Dumbledore's face told her that it most certainly was, "My father was not my father?" Laurel guessed, Dumbledore's eyes flashed with pain, Laurel huffed at the sight of it. She sat back in her chair, one reluctant hand slid across the table for the tiny thestral to clamber on.

"Quite." Dumbledore looked at her over his glasses.

"Snape was acting off in our first class with him." Laurel said flatly, "You told him, didn't you."

"Ah, so you know it's—"

"Yes! I know it's Snape, _did you tell him_?"

"Miss Potter, I will remind you that I am your headmaster here at Hogwarts." Dumbledore pursed his lips, Laurel relented, bringing her hands which were cupped around the thestral figurine to her chest, one finger lightly stroking the bony spine of it.

"Sorry, sir." Laurel grimaced, small enough that Dumbledore did not see—or at least chose not to see. "Did you, though?" She looked up at him with wide, sad eyes.

"I thought that he deserved to know."

"Deserved to know?! He _hurt_ my mother, took advantage of her!" Laurel replied incredulously, words souring in her mouth.

"I would ask that you reserve your judgement—" Dumbledore cut himself off at her panicked gaze, "Severus Snape was...a troubled man, in his youth..." _Oh, just in his youth, sure,_ Laurel thought derisively to herself, "And, indeed, troubled to this day. Though not—" Dumbledore sighed tiredly, slumping in his chair in much the same way that she was in hers.

"I remember, when I was little my Mum told my Dad what happened, she cried." Laurel said, brow furrowed and voice wavering.

"The War...it was a different time." Dumbledore smiled weakly, Laurel scoffed lightly to herself, one hand scrubbing at her face, which she was disappointed to note was a little wet with tears. "Perhaps you could help Severus." Dumbledore finished, Laurel looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"Help him?" She smiled in disbelief, thinking it almost impossible for that man to want or require anything from her, or anyone at all.

"Yes, help him...and he could help you in return." Dumbledore stared pleadingly at her, sitting straight in his chair, "All I ask for is a chance, for the both of you."

Laurel glanced down, eyes catching on the tiny thestral, who had knelt down and was snuggling its small, metal head on the nail of her curled-in thumb, leathery wings curling around its chest. She sighed, "Fine. But he can come to me." Laurel rolled her eyes heavenward, quite sure that he would never do so.

"Thank you, Miss Potter." Dumbledore sighed in relief, Laurel stood from her chair.

"Was that all you required, Sir." At his nod, Laurel began to head across the room, but she stopped and turned back, "Can...I keep him." Her eyes widened in genuine vulnerability, fingers stroking against the thestral figurine's rippled back.

Dumbledore's eyes softened, "Of course, I've been looking for a good home for him." Laurel quirked a smile at Dumbledore, and left while they were on good terms, bounding down the spiral staircase, past the suddenly appearing man in question—Severus Snape—and towards Gryffindor Tower.

 **4 November 1989. 9:02pm**

Laurel sat on her bed with a sigh, bouncing lightly in place. Her fingers uncurled and the tiny silver thestral leapt off her palm and onto the sheets, bounding up and down her bed in uneven circles. At the sound of a rumbling growl, Laurel glanced towards the end of the bed to see her cat Luke sitting angrily on his haunches, bushy brown tail snapping back and forth.

"We've got a new member in our family, Lukey." She smiled at him, reaching over to stroke one hand down his milky white fur, Luke purred for a moment then resumed his quiet growl. The thestral stopped in front of the cat, wings outstretched as it bent its front knees. It promptly charged at Luke, but was stopped with a heavy paw on its chest. "Luke, don't you—"

Laurel cut herself off and smiled at the pair—Luke had removed his paw and let the thestral resume his bouncing around the bed, "What should we call it, then?" She pulled her legs up onto the bed and shuffled the covers around so they cuddled her tightly. Luke blinked at her with icy blue eyes, then tilted his head down at the figurine that was shivering in excitement. He bent his head down and licked the thestral once on its tiny face, the thestral shaking its head in disgust then bouncing forward to nuzzle at Luke's front leg.

As Luke huddled down, the thestral sat with him and snuggled in under his chin—Laurel suddenly brightened with realisation, "It's gotta be Leia!" She smiled down at the two, scratching Luke with her foot from under the covers. The tiny thestral perked up and looked at Laurel, her wings beat twice in excitement then she settled once more, head resting on her front hooves which clicked together with a metallic thump.

"Yep, definitely Leia." Laurel lay her head down, smiling softly as she drifted to sleep.

 **4 November 1989. 9:07pm**

Elsewhere, Severus Snape sat alone in his quarters, toying with a crystal glass between shaking fingers. He had shortly returned from a meeting with Dumbledore—who was so kind to inform him that the girl knew of his connection to her. Snape's jaw clenched as he downed the last sip of whiskey that lingered in his glass, setting it on the table beside him with a glare.

He would never have known about the girl, had Dumbledore not told him the night she began her first year. Snape couldn't help but think he'd rather have not known, rather not think about that night with Lily. He gulped nervously, tapping his fingers against the leather arm of his chair. He would never have known. _Laurel_ , he thought of her name dryly. She didn't much look like her mother—save her eyes. Not the colour—her eyes were dark, like his own, he supposed. Her almond-shaped eyes were Lily's, and her nose— _thankfully_ , he smirked bitterly to himself. Laurel's hair was a dark, jet black, but it would be easy to guess that she had inherited Potter's...

Snape's gaze flickered over to the mantle above his empty fireplace, a small, square photograph leaned against the wall, no frame around it. He could see the smiling, blushing face of Lily within, her image's smile widened at whomever was taking the photograph—not Severus. Snape sat there for what felt like an age, staring at the pale imitation of Lily in his picture and trying not to think of the girl in Gryffindor tower who they had created.


	25. Cidaris

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Five: Cidaris [Diadem]**

 **5 February 1991. 11:38pm**

Laurel swiftly ran between two columns, ducking behind the last with a cursory glance at Filch. The caretaker was grumbling, greasy hair swinging ominously in the low yellow glow of his lantern. Laurel knelt down on the stone floor, wincing silently as her knees scraped unforgivingly against the harsh surface through her flannel pyjama pants.

"I know you're here, _nasty children_." Filch grumbled, muttering the curse under his breath. Laurel rolled her eyes at the frankly stereotypically villainous swear. She shuffled along the low half-wall, crawling along until she exited the dully lit courtyard and entered the nearby hall. Glancing back one last time to check that Filch was out of sight, she got to her feet and sprinted as silently as she could to the adjoining hall. A light padding sound accompanied her, Laurel smiled down at Luke who was bounding to a stop beside her.

Throughout her two years at Hogwarts, Luke had been a constant and much-loved companion to her; he was a surprisingly good sleuth, even with the tiny, metallic thestral figurine Leia snuggled into the back of his collar.

"Oi, come out!" Filch's voice grew fainter and fainter as she walked at a comparatively leisurely pace to the nearest stairwell, she and Luke padded up seven flights of stairs back towards Gryffindor tower. After a quick foray to the kitchens, her pockets were bursting with lovingly made treats, enough to fulfil her hunger needs for her real mission.

Laurel bypassed the Fat Lady's portrait and journeyed along the twisting corridors, scanning the walls around her with diligent eyes, wand brightly lit with a handy 'Lumos!' After what Laurel approximated to be half an hour, she huffed to a stop and crouched down in a tidy alcove, digging her hand into the pocket of her jumper.

"Here you go." She whispered to Luke, placing a tiny cat-friendly biscuit on the floor in front of him, he licked it up with a loud, rumbling purr. Laurel smiled at him around her own mouthful of a pumpkin pasty made by the kitchen House Elves. While she wasn't a proponent of slavery, she just wasn't sure what to think of them. On one hand, they liked to serve wizards and witches, and on the other, Stockholm syndrome was a thing. _After hundreds of years of enslavement, one's judgement was likely to be skewed_ , she grimaced around her suddenly spoiled treat.

Grimace remaining, she shoved the pasty back into her pocket, crumbs flaking off everywhere. Luke daintily licked up a few pasty flakes, then trotted away from Laurel, his bushy brown tail flicking haphazardly in the air. Laurel stared after him feeling dejected, but soon perked up as she directed her wand's light after him. He had settled down on his haunches in front of a rather lovely tapestry depicting a wizard teaching a line of trolls to pirouette, their arms were raised above their heads to reveal their evidently odorous and hairy armpits. Laurel recognised the wizard as Barnabus the Barmy, his face was screwed up at the smell of the trolls in front of him, each of whom he was teaching ballet to.

With a wide smile, Laurel twirled around to stare at the blank wall opposite the tapestry. Despite knowing its hidden secrets, she could not help but be disappointed at its apparent plainness. Laurel shook her head of the thought and concentrated. _I...need to find something hidden_. She nodded her head firmly, having found the phrase she thought most appropriate.

Laurel stepped back from the wall, and began to walk down the corridor. She turned back and passed the wall. Laurel repeated this a total of three times, repeating the chosen phrase in her head with her eyes screwed tightly shut on the last few steps. A low rumbling filled the air and she opened her eyes, sharply looking at the wall.

Where the wall had once been blank, an ornate door of twisting, dark metal. She stepped forward with a gasp, hand landing on the nearest twining of metal, it was solid beneath her fingers. Hand scraping against the rusted metal, she reached for the door handle and pulled it down sharply. The door opened with a low groan, she peeked around into the room. Luke darted in quickly, Laurel soon followed him.

"Holy..." Laurel's voice echoed lightly in the room as she tilted her head back, taking in the contents of the room. _The Room of Requirement_ , she let loose an excited giggle, _specifically, the Room of Hidden Things_.

Within the room was stacks upon stacks of lost and decrepit belongings. Towers of broken chairs and cabinets gave way to mountains and piles of yellowing books, Laurel immediately spotted a rusted red sword, a lonely banjo and the torn portrait of a swaying horse. She squeaked in awe as her gaze drifted between the ramshackle collections of junk. Suddenly, her awe-filled smile dropped and she furrowed her brow, _how exactly am I supposed to find it in all this mess?_

Laurel groaned lightly, sitting heavily into a nearby dusty armchair, leaning her chin on her clenched fist. Luke pounced around in a nearby pile of eggshells, and Laurel thought on her options. She had attended Hogwarts for almost two years, and she was nearing thirteen. Throwing away her trepidation, Laurel had decided to wholeheartedly begin her quest for a happier world. Beginning with the most available of her tasks, she decided to search for Ravenclaw's lost diadem—one of the tools that would lead to Voldemort's eventual dissolution. Of course, she knew where the diadem was—the Room of Requirement—but did not know exactly where in this great big, messy room it was hidden.

There was a crash and Laurel cringed, she looked over to see Luke sitting guiltily, a pile of scratched shields lying on the floor beside him—one of the shields was on its side and rolling lazily down a path clear of objects.

"Luke, c'mon." She called him over, patting the armchair and coughing when a gust of dust billowed from the fabric. Luke meowed sounding annoyed, but trotted towards her all the same. He jumped up onto the arm and sat, tail hitting her arm rhythmically as it swished through the air. Laurel leant her chin on her hand once more, startling as a tiny metal hoof nudged her forearm; she uncurled her other hand and let Leia clamber on.

Laurel sighed and looked between her two companions, Leia was wiggling her leathery wings and thin tail with excitement, "What the heck am I gonna do?"

 **6 February 1991. 8:42am**

A scream echoed through the room, Laurel stared wide-eyed trying to find the source— _oh, that was me_. Laurel glared up at her dorm-mate Angelina Johnson, who was covering her mouth and giggling, eyes almost closed with mirth.

"What the hell, _Angelina_?" Laurel hissed, shivering from the ice cold water Angelina had apparently poured on her while she slept, if the empty bucket in her hands was any indication.

"Fred and George made me do it!" Angelina dropped her hand and looked indignant, Laurel almost felt empathy for her until the illusion was ruined by Angelina's snort.

Laurel kicked her wet duvet down to the end of the bed and jumped out, darting around the other beds and into the bathroom. She hurriedly threw off her soaking wet pyjamas and cuddled a nearby robe around herself, noting with glee that it was Angelina's fluffy purple robe.

She stuck her head back into the dorm, wet hair dripping onto the carpet, "Oh, Fred and George _made you_ , did they? They gave you that bucket and charmed your hands to slip and pour it all over me while I slept?" Laurel was answered by another snort. "You people should be ashamed of yourselves." Laurel muttered to herself as she snuggled her face into the soft fabric of the robe.

"Oh, man! You got my robe all wet, now I'll have to stick to a towel, like a _peasant_!" Angelina bounded into the bathroom, jokingly throwing a hand across her forehead and pouting.

Laurel shot her a grin, "Serves you right!" Angelina scoffed and shared a genuine smile with her friend.

"That was a pretty good one, though." Angelina praised herself, Laurel hummed indeterminately.

"Easy for you to say." She sulked, wringing her hair out over her shoulder, the water splashed across the tile floor and speckled her feet, her eyes suddenly widened at seeing Angelina dressed in her uniform and ready for class, "Wait, what time is it?"

"Quarter to nine!" Angelina smiled wide enough to show almost all of her teeth.

"Ah, crap." Laurel grumbled, "Why didn't you wake me?" She smacked a hand wildly in Angelina's general direction as she scrambled back into the dorm. Angelina's laughter followed her as she knelt down by her trunk and rummaged around, surfacing her uniform with a victorious exclamation, "Yes!"

Laurel hurriedly dressed and rushed out of the room, close on Angelina's heels. As they exited Gryffindor tower and made their way through the twisting halls of Hogwarts, Laurel could see the twins and Lee walked ahead of them, not rushing at all. Her eyes narrowed. With a wild grab for Angelina's hand, Laurel tugged her forward and ran to catch up with their friends.

"Argh!" Fred and George cried out in unison as she jumped between them, throwing an arm around each and pulling them down with all of her weight.

"Did you put dear Angelina up to my wake-up shower this morning?" Laurel narrowed her eyes as she looked between the two.

"Psh, how dare you?" Fred shrugged off her arm and pouted mockingly, Laurel just gave him an unimpressed stare in return.

"Yes, whatever do you mean by 'wake-up shower?'" George widened his eyes innocently. A snort sounded from behind them and Laurel shot an amused glance at Angelina, then turned back to Fred and George.

She fell back a few steps and walked in line with Angelina as they walked towards Transfiguration, lamenting, "I don't know why I put up with those two."

"Because school life would be terribly boring without them?" Angelina grinned at Laurel, nudging her in the side with a bony elbow.

Laurel just scoffed and entered the Transfiguration classroom after the twins. She fell into her seat with a sigh, shoving her backpack under the table after retrieving her disparagingly heavy Transfiguration textbook. The book fell open with a thud, landing on a page of tiny writing that changed in font and colour every few seconds: the title of the page declared it as the _Simple Art of Transfiguring the Written Word_. Bright, neon pink letters flashed across the page and Laurel smiled down at them fondly.

"Turn to page four hundred and seventy three!" McGonagall's severe voice rang out, Laurel slid her finger between the pages of her textbook and flipped to the designated section. With an internal groan, she read that they were studying the _Theory Behind Incantations_.

"Laurel, psst!" A hissing whisper sounded from the table beside hers, she rolled her eyes over to see Fred staring at her with wide eyes, peering around Lee who sat between them. She leaned closer with expectant eyes.

"Yes?"

Fred glanced up at Lee from where his head was ducked near the table, then slid across the table to come closer, "What were you doing in an abandoned corridor on the seventh floor last night after curfew?"

Laurel's eyes widened in panic, then they narrowed in suspicion, "How the heck do you know where I was?" She leaned her head closer to his, "Are you stalking me?"

"What?! No." Fred sulked, "I just..." He trailed off and his gaze drifted thoughtfully to the side, "Me'n George'll tell you later." Fred nodded certainly, Laurel's eyes remained narrowed, suspicion not assuaged in the least.

"Miss Potter, Mr Weasley? If you would?" McGonagall interrupted her lecture to gaze at them through her spectacles, Laurel froze and sat properly back in her chair, shooting McGonagall an innocent smile. Their professor just sighed and continued her teachings, Laurel sank back in her chair with a relieved sigh. Laurel shot a wary glance between Fred and George, wondering just what Fred was on about.


	26. Vestīgia

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Six: Vestīgia [Footprints]**

 **6 February 1991. 4:36pm**

Rushing into the Gryffindor common room, Laurel immediately spotted Fred, George and Lee colluding in the corner furthest from her. After a steady moment to calm her breath, Laurel resumed her fast pace and fell into the seat beside Fred. Across from them, George gave Lee an unforgiving shove with his elbow and nodded suspiciously to his twin brother. Lee rolled his eyes and left with a huff, Laurel stared after him then turned to the twins with narrowed eyes.

"What was that about?" She asked with suspicion.

George smiled widely, "Original members only for this conversation!"

Laurel stared at him in disbelief, before stating frankly, "George, that's horrible."

"Well, he's gone now...we'll fill him in later!" Fred poked her on the cheek, she wrinkled her nose and slapped the hand away.

"Whatever," Laurel sighed, then she slid out of the booth and gestured for Fred to do the same. He did so with some confusion, then Laurel manoeuvred him into the seat beside his brother, and sat back in the seat opposite them.

At their identical look of confusion, she explained, "Wouldn't do for the interrogator to collude with the accused, now, would it?" The twins turned sheepish, interrupting their protests against the label, "You've been stalking me, now explain how and why." Laurel looked at them expectantly, both Fred and George flushed a stark red.

"Okay, quit it with the 'stalker' stuff—"

"It's not as creepy as all that!" They argued, Laurel continued to stare at them with her eyebrows raised in expectation. Fred huffed in annoyance, then bent down to rifle around in his backpack. When he placed an old, yellowed piece of parchment on the table, Laurel had her moment of epiphany.

"Oh, that makes sense!" Laurel smiled wide, reaching forward and bringing the parchment closer. It was completely blank, but Laurel knew that it must be the _Marauder's Map_.

"Hang on, you know about the Map?" George exclaimed, Laurel looked up, eyes wide at having been caught.

She backtracked, "What map? I was...being facetious, why have you put an old bit of parchment in front of me and called it a proper explanation?" Laurel narrowed her eyes at them to emphasise her point, suppressing an amused smile at her poor attempt at a diversion.

"Oh..." They nodded thoughtfully, Laurel sighed in relief that they accepted it as fact, "Well...it's not a bit of old parchment, it's a map!" Both Fred and George looked at her with wide eyes and wide smiles, but they soon dissipated as she did not react as if that was the most exciting news since the Weird Sisters announced their tour of '89.

"Okay, it's a map...how?" Laurel turned over the parchment and studied its imperfections; one would have to know that it was important to not dismiss it on first sight.

"You have to say an incantation!" George said obviously.

"Go on, then." Laurel put the Map down and pushed it towards them.

George took out his wand and rested it against the centre of the parchment after looking around to check that no one in the room was paying them any attention, clearing his throat dramatically, he proclaimed, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

Spidery black lines of ink began to spread from where the tip of George's wand touched the parchment, Laurel looked on in wonder as the skeleton of the Hogwarts Castle established itself on the previously blank surface. Her eyes widened as her fingers reached forward to trace lightly along the spreading lines.

"There's the proper wonder!" Fred beamed at her, "Brilliant, isn't it?"

"Is this...Hogwarts?" Laurel edged her fingers under the creases and flicked the map open, her eyes flicked between the rooms, they quickly found Gryffindor Tower. Leaning forward, she saw three sets of inky black footprints huddled in a corner on the parchment: her, Fred and George's names idled near them, "Is that us?"

"Yep!"

"Shows everyone in Hogwarts all the time!"

"This is amazing," Laurel smiled widely at them, their excitement being infectious, "Where did you find this?"

They both looked suddenly sheepish, sharing a glance, then Fred spoke, "Well, we got it from Filch's office last year."

"Y'know, for that prank with the gnome in Dumbledore's...?" George added. Laurel snorted at the memory, she nodded her head.

"So, you stole it?" Before Fred and George began their protests, she continued, "From Filch, I suppose that's acceptable." Another snort.

They fell into silence, Laurel still studying the map. Peering closely, she noticed the tiny footsteps of Dumbledore pacing in his office. Gaze dropping, the four small paw prints of Mrs Norris the cat leapt across the page following an even smaller set of paw prints of something called 'Dave,' which looked to be a rodent or other small animal of some sort.

Laurel broke the quiet, "Don't think I've forgotten about the weird stalking." She slightly narrowed her eyes up at them. They turned sheepish once more.

"We're sorry." They said in unison, eyes wide with apology. Laurel looked between the two for a long moment, before deciding that perhaps they were genuinely apologetic.

"Fine." She relented.

After a moment of cheer, they started forward again, Fred started "Why were you in the seventh floor corridor—"

"The abandoned one?" George added.

"No reason to be, really—"

"And...your footsteps disappeared on the map!" George exclaimed.

Fred widened his eyes dramatically, "The map's never been wrong before!"

Laurel huffed at their questions, "What's with the barrage? Don't think I can't retract that apology, you two. I'm entitled to my own secrets!" At their continuing to stare at her expectantly, "I'll tell you one day, maybe." She relented, they continued to stare, "C'mon!"

"Ugh, fine." Fred groaned, pouting and brandishing his wand, "Mischief managed!" He tapped the parchment and the spidery lines retreated until the parchment was blank once more.

 **10 March 1991. 2:14pm**

It had taken a month, but Laurel had done it; she had found Ravenclaw's lost diadem. Amongst the many stacks of dusted, undisturbed furniture, the diadem had been placed on top of a puke-green cabinet. If Laurel had not been searching for many a night for this diadem, she could surely have overlooked it. The gold of the setting was discoloured, only the brilliant green gem set in the centre shone anymore. Narrowing her eyes and looking closer, Laurel could see intricate engravings on the twining metal that she recognised as Latin.

With fingers pale white and trembling, Laurel reached out for the diadem, lifting it from its home of some half a century. Dust mites clung to the metal and she swiped them off absent-mindedly, holding the metal tightly in front of her. Waiting for a moment, Laurel braced herself for the feeling of being so near a dark magical object.

Just as she had decided that the dark feeling would not come and she was loosening her tense muscles, a wave of pure hate and fear rushed over Laurel. A gasp escaped her and echoed loudly in the tall chamber, cutting itself short on the piles of lost things. Her skin pimpled with goosebumps and the hairs on her arm raised. With a shiver, Laurel set the diadem back down, her fingers lingered on the metal as if fused to it. The dark feeling did not pass. It felt as though she had sunken into the Black Lake, as if icy cold water was rushing over her skin and seeping into her veins, filling her entire body with a shiver.

Gulping, she slipped her fingers from the diadem and the icy water rushed back out. Laurel sighed in relief, she was cold and the fear remained a threat in her mind, but the worst had left as she broke contact with the diadem. She glared down at the offending object, knowing that she would have to feel that once more, that she would have to take the diadem and keep it safe from anyone who would interfere until she knew how to destroy it.

Laurel's fingers shook greater than they had before as she reached out once more, with a sharp inhale her fingers closed around the cold metal. There was a rushing sound in her ears as her heart pumped faster and she shivered as the cold fear filled her once more. Shaking her head as if to dislodge the sound, she gripped tightly around the diadem and started down the row she had come down.

The walk back seemed to last a lifetime, her sharp breaths were loud in the room and she paced quickly through the maze of towering piles that she had come to know well in the month she had spent among them. Closing her eyes, Laurel let her feet take her around twisting corners and she soon found herself near the entrance. Opening her eyes, Laurel saw the elaborate, metal doors towering high above her, just a few dozen steps away.

As she took her first step, a harsh gust of wind blew over her neck, her hand came up to grasp it. Looking behind her, the room was as still as it had ever been. Another gust, but with her hand there she knew that it was not from wind. The cold fear continued to rise and rise, she felt twining fingers and nails and knives scraping softly against her skin, tormenting her. With a cry, she loosened her fingers and let the diadem drop. It fell against the stone floor with a metallic clatter, and the feelings lessened, her scrunched features relaxed and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Narrowing her eyes, Laurel glared at the diadem that sat so innocently by the broken egg shells. It certainly felt like a piece of a dark lord's soul was in it, Laurel was not eager to pick it up again. But she had to, she just had to. Quickly, Laurel scrambled to pick it up and cringed at the rush of fear and hatred, she sprinted the few steps to the doors and eased out of them.

With a shudder, Laurel navigated the abandoned corridor leading to the Room of Requirement, then breathed a sigh of relief as she re-entered civilisation, shoving the diadem under her jumper. The yelling and general mischief that filled the air around her helped to muffle the darkness emanating from the diadem, she sidled through the bustling crowds of students that was common on a Sunday, soon finding herself in front of the Fat Lady.

"Password?"

" _Veni, vidi, dormivi_." Laurel bustled through the portrait, who hummed and hawed at her impatient tone.

"Laurel!" A body slammed into hers and she huffed as the metal of the diadem bit into her skin, it was one of the twins.

She ducked out of their arms, "Not now, Fred!" Laurel sprinted for the winding staircase to the girl's dormitory.

"I'm George." He pouted from where she had left him, shivering at the uneasy feeling that had washed over him.

Laurel paid him no mind and entered her dorm, landing on her knees in front of her trunk. Clicking open the latches, she opened the trunk and fished the diadem out from under her jumper, promptly stuffing it in the trunk under a pile of socks and underpants. She let go of the trunk's lid and it fell shut with a thump, Laurel leant back and collapsed onto the floor. With a smile, she noted the dark feeling eked from her body and she only felt the warm sun on her face from the open window and a sense of absolute relief.

"Let's never do that again." She mumbled to herself as she clambered onto her soft bed, curling up by her pillow, _never mind that there're about five more horcruxes to collect, one of them being my own brother_. Laurel groaned into her pillow at the thought.


	27. Conditiō

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Seven: Conditiō [Condition]**

 **11 March 1991. 1:29pm**

Laurel was floating on a cloud, her arms spread out wide and her fingers wiggled through the crisply cold condensation. Logically, she knew that clouds were not solid enough for floating on, but logic did not matter to Laurel in this moment. Her eyes blinked open and she saw an expanse of clear blue, the blue turning brighter as it melded with the golden glow of the sun high in the sky.

A wisp of darkness shot across the sky like a meteor, Laurel furrowed her brow at the unease that disrupted her perfect happiness. The darkness faded away and the uneasiness faded with it, her face smoothed over and she closed her eyes, basking in the warm feeling that rose within her. Laurel breathed in the crisp and clean air deeply, exhaling slowly. A shadow fell over her closed eyes and she opened them, the darkness was back. Three trailing tails were spread over the sky, overtaking the blue. Black shadows eked over the sky and the tails turned to waves of darkness, enveloping the sky and blocking the sunlight.

Everything turned black, Laurel was still floating. A gasp escaped from her, it echoed back sharply and she winced as it reverberated and pierced her ears with its loudness. Laurel shivered, she noticed that she was cold. It was a recognisable cold, the same that she had felt when touching the diadem. Hatred and fear bubbled up within her, a whimper caught in her throat as she tried to move but found herself unable. It felt as though she was tangled in vines, they did not give way as she tugged and tugged. _Just a dream_ , Laurel told herself, trying to calm. But the fear rose steadily until she thought she would burst from the feeling.

Laurel closed her eyes—it was just as dark—and concentrated. She did not know exactly on what she was concentrating, but her brow furrowed and she gasped as her eyes flung open. They immediately narrowed once more as a harsh light fell over them. Laurel sighed in relief as she saw the familiar maroon velvet curtains of her four poster bed, they were pulled open to allow the stream of sunlight to enter from the nearby window.

With a groan, Laurel rubbed her eyes, feeling as though she had aged at least two decades. _As though I was my actual age_ , she grimaced, then banished the thought with a shake of her head. Her fingers tangled in messy dark hair, she brushed it from her face and sat up, kicking the heavy duvet off with sharp movements, wishing to be free of it.

One hand reached blindly for the wand she had kept on the bedside table, finding it promptly and bringing it before her sleepily blinking eyes. With a yawn, Laurel mumbled as she tapped her wand against some unseen obstacle in the air, " _Hora_ _ostendēre_." Red, glowing script scrawled before her, _1337_.

Laurel glared at the numbers, whipping her wand through them to make them wisp away, then fell back onto her pillow with a groan. It was Monday and she was late for her classes—very late. With another low groan, Laurel buried her face back into her pillow and decided that she was past the point of no return. A small smile drifted across her face as she settled in. Her smile cracked and shuttered away as the door to the dorms burst open.

"Oh, thank Merlin." Laurel lifted her head to see Angelina staring at her with clear exasperation, "We thought you were dead! Haven't missed a single day and now you're sleeping in while we're covering _exam content_..." Angelina trailed off into a cranky mumble, Laurel smiled innocently up at her friend.

"I had a rough night," Laurel said simply, eyes wide. Angelina's eyes narrowed and she examined Laurel up and down, finally deciding with a firm nod that she was telling the truth.

"I have your assignments." The bed dipped near Laurel's hip as Angelina dropped a stack of paper and books next to her, "Good luck doing those blind." Angelina shot her a grin and reached up to ruffle her hair teasingly, Laurel cringed away but was not quick enough.

A voice echoed through the open door of the dorm, "Oi, Angie? She's not dead, then?" Laurel recognised it as one of the twins and giggled with Angelina.

"No, she is! Just havin' a chat with her ghost, Weasley!" Angelina called back sarcastically.

There was a pause, "Alright then, have fun." Laurel and Angelina dissolved into another fit of giggles.

Once they had calmed, Angelina sat at the foot of Laurel's bed, and Laurel sat up with annoyed huff at the inevitable lecture she was about to receive.

"You alright, Laurel?" Angelina seemed genuinely worried, and Laurel managed a smile.

"Yeah," She said, the word catching slightly in her throat, "Just needed a day." Angelina scrutinised her for a moment longer, then stood from the bed.

"Well, if you need me, just ask." Angelina shot her a final grin then dashed towards the door, "Gotta head to transfiguration, McGonagall only let Fred and me out to check on you!"

With a tired huff, Laurel snuggled back into her bed covers, wincing as she heard the thud of her homework landing on the floor by her bed. Laurel shrugged and snuggled deeper, eyes lighting up as her cat Luke sidled into the room and jumped up to cuddle by her legs. The tiny form of his own companion Leia was settling down near the nape of his neck, small metal head resting on his collar and clinking lightly against his tags that had twisted around.

Suddenly feeling awake, Laurel shot a hand out to her bedside table and clutched a piece of parchment. Smiling wide, Laurel examined the chicken scratch—written with a Muggle pen—of her brother. Ever since she had arrived at Hogwarts, Harry never failed to write her a letter at least once a week, and Laurel had never failed to return them:

 _Laur,_

 _Remus and me went to Diagon Alley yesterday and I almost managed to get a dog! It was this real scruffy black dog sitting in the window at Magical Menagerie, he had this black eyes like sad pools of ink. Remus seemed just as sad as he was, don't know why...I thought he didn't like animals that much. Anyway, some other family picked him up before we could...so at least he ended up happy!_

Laurel grimaced at Harry's description of the dog, he sounded a lot like Padfoot. A feeling of immense guilt rose up in her but she gulped and suppressed it down for another time, continuing on:

 _We went to the Leaky Cauldron for a couple of Butterbeers instead, the man there seemed really chuffed to have me there—another one of those wizards who stare at my scar the whole time they're in front of me, I messed my hair over my forehead and he seemed to get the hint. Speaking of my scar, it was really aching this morning. Remus said that it should be fine as long as it didn't hurt too much. Did you end up finding that hat you lost? I mean, you seemed really worried about it in your last letter. I've never been that fond of a hat, but I guess we're different like that._

She cracked a smile, glancing sideways at her trunk in which the diadem lay buried under her underpants—the diadem had been worrying her so much that Laurel had told Harry she was looking for her hat in the hope of some encouragement. Rereading the words, Laurel huffed a laugh at what Harry considered encouragement:

 _If you don't find it, Remus'll probably buy you another—if you're really that cut up about it. How's Luke and Leia? Luke's a mean cat, but I thought I'd ask cause you seem to like him. Remus just told me I shouldn't've said that last part, but I think we can be honest with each other, he's a mean cat._

The last words were underlined, Laurel snorted a laugh and looked at Luke. He was glaring at her with his wide blue eyes, as if he could sense blasphemous thoughts about himself. Laurel read on:

 _Anyway, I hope you have fun at Hogwarts—but not too much fun, wait till I get there for that._

 _Love, Harry_

 _P.S. Remus told me to tell you that he loves you too and he's still waiting for a reply for his last letter (he's glaring but I think it's the joke kind of glare)._

Laurel let the letter fall from her grasp and flutter onto the bed beside her. One thing stuck out most of all—Harry had said his scar had hurt. Laurel knew that whenever Harry's scar had hurt, it had something to do with Voldemort. She glanced back over at her trunk where the diadem was, she was almost certain that it was the culprit. With absolutely no way as of yet to destroy the diadem, Laurel decided that she must let it be, if only for the sake of her brother. She thought that maybe that horrid feeling that had overtaken her was the piece of Voldemort's soul that lay dormant within stirring and beginning to arise. Casting the thought of the horcrux from her mind, Laurel snuggled back under her covers and tried to ignore the rising feeling of anxiety.

 **18 May 1991. 10:06am**

A low whistling filled the air as a tiny contraption began to spin and twist on Dumbledore's desk. One could always rely on the interesting devices strewn about the Headmaster's office to delay any unwanted interactions. Laurel's gaze drifted over to Dumbledore where he sat waiting patiently for her to answer him, blue eyes twinkling as they always seemed to do.

"Why have you arranged this meeting, Miss Potter?" Dumbledore repeated himself, Laurel sat back in the chair and decided to do away with any pretence.

"I've come with an offer," Laurel said bluntly, not waiting for him to reply before speaking again, "I have something you want, and you can do something for me...two somethings, actually." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes fractionally, seeming both suspicious and worried—whether it was for her or of her, Laurel did not know.

"Please elaborate."

"You've known for some time that I have some...seer abilities," Laurel grimaced, thinking it a weak explanation, but it was the only one she had, "Well, I have _foreseen_ something. I did a long time ago. Do you remember when I came here almost eight years ago, in the middle of the night? You found me and Professor McGonagall in the halls? Well, I told Professor McGonagall not to tell you, but..."

Dumbledore leaned forward and urged her on with a slight wave of his hand, she took a deep breath.

"I was chasing Peter Pettigrew," She breathed the words out, wide eyes pleading for him to believe her.

Dumbledore stated the obvious, "Peter Pettigrew died on the same night as your parents, he was killed by Sirius Black."

"Well, he wasn't. It wasn't Sirius that was the Secret Keeper, it wasn't Sirius that betrayed my parents. It was Pettigrew. They're both animagi, Pettgrew transformed into a rat and escaped." Dumbledore furrowed his brow, eyes lighting up in understanding at the last point.

"And you've seen this?" He supposed, Laurel nodded her head awkwardly.

"Sirius is innocent. And he's been in Azkaban for almost a decade. I can't live with myself letting this happen any longer. I want you to get him a trial, a proper trial—I know Crouch didn't give him one. I'm sure he'd freely consent to Veritaserum."

Dumbledore was quiet for what felt like the longest minute of Laurel's life, he sat back in his chair and sighed heavily, "What was the second thing you required of me?"

"Well, it has to do with the thing I have for you," Laurel said simply, Dumbledore urged her on, "I have one of Voldemort's horcruxes, and I'm prepared to give it to you on the condition that you destroy it, as I can't." Dumbledore's eyes widened exponentially and he blinked quickly a few times, gaze zipping around the room as if in search of some unspoken answer.

"He has horcr—I thought...well," He choked out, "That does sound like something I'd want."


	28. Culpă

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Eight: Culpă [Guilt]**

 **29 June 1991. 4:36pm**

Rumbling clouds of stormy grey were spread high across the sky, the heavy patter of rain against the window filled the compartment, unheard under the louder roar coming from inside. Fred and George had challenged Lee and Laurel to a game of Exploding Snap, and it was turning out to be of the most epic capacity. The students of Hogwarts were embarking on the long train ride back home after another year at school, filling the hours-long trip with any mindless pursuit—the more mindless the better after a year of cramming their heads with magical knowledge.

"I didn't know your mother raised a quitter," Laurel said innocently, getting identically outraged exclamations.

"Laurel—"

"We are dangerously close to losing our eyebrows—"

"I don't know if we'll look as handsome without them—"

"I'd rather forfeit the game then my precious ginger caterpillars!" Fred stroked his eyebrows lovingly, Lee and Laurel snorted in response—the card deck remained unexploded on the floor in front of them.

"Fine, more chocolate frogs for us..." Laurel grinned at Lee, they pulled their bounty towards them and began to divide it evenly.

"Aw, c'mon!" The twins whined, looking at their friends with wide, pleading eyes. After some debate, Laurel and Lee decided to give in to the spirit of the season—the Summer holidays—and slid some of the chocolate back towards the twins who pounced on it with wide grins.

There was a low rolling sound and all four sets of eyes turned to look at their compartment door which had just been opened, a voice grouched from the doorway, "Train stopped five minutes ago, out!"

With guilty grimaces, they realised that the train was indeed stationary, and Platform Nine and Three Quarters was loud and bustling outside the window. They hurriedly stuffed their chocolate frogs into their respective pockets and grabbed their trunks—and animal cage in Laurel's case—rushing out past the grumpy conductor and off the train through the nearest door.

Laurel splashed onto the platform with a jump, following the two bobbing ginger-haired heads in front of her, throwing a smile and a wave back towards Lee who had already spotted his parents. After much pushing and shoving and running over careless toes with her trunk, Laurel came to a stop behind Fred and George. She peeked around Fred's shoulder and her eyes brightened as she saw Remus and Harry, the Weasleys standing beside them.

"Moony! Harry!" Laurel squeaked excitedly, dropping her trunk and edging around Fred to collide with her brother, squeezing him tightly until he groaned.

"You're late." Remus grinned down at her, squeezing him to her in a quick hug then ruffling her hair.

After a subsequent wrinkling of her nose and the diversion of a hand to straighten her hair back out, Laurel returned the hug and explained, "Intensive game of Exploding Snap, only finished so early 'cause Fred and George gave up."

"Oi! We did not give up—"

"We totally knew the train had stopped, so we gracefully bowed out!" The twins called over to her, she shot them a disbelieving look, then returned back to her family.

After a few minutes of reunion, the group managed to meander off to the side towards the row of fireplaces decorating the wall, a crowd was gathered around them and emerald puffs of smoke periodically dispersed into the air. One disparagingly long wait later, the Weasleys, Laurel, Harry and Remus had all Flooed to the Burrow, where they were to spend the evening having dinner and spending Molly-Weasley-mandated time together as a family.

"Mum, the knives started duelling again," Ron called over to them as they piled one-by-one out of the fireplace, Laurel spied Ron, Ginny and Bill Weasley hiding behind the nearby couch, the latter with his wand out trying fruitlessly to stop the duel. In front of them, a pair of knives were clattering against each other, one seemed to be slowing due to a nasty scratch along its side—another four knives were hovering excitedly in the air as spectators. With a disappointed huff, Molly Weasley snapped her wand at the knives and they unceremoniously froze in place, another snap and they darted over to the counter where a pile of half-peeled potatoes lay.

"Arthur, really? Have you been experimenting with my kitchen knives again?" Molly narrowed her eyes at her husband, who seemed guilty.

"Uh, all in, kids." Arthur ushered them all into the lounge room, Remus trying to protest his being called a kid but was ultimately silenced by Arthur's pointed look towards Molly—the threat of Molly Weasley's wrath loomed overhead as Arthur was ordered in to face the music.

Harry bounded over to Ron and Ginny, sitting between them on the couch the latter two had previously been hiding behind, they began to chat away while Laurel was relegated to a cushy armchair opposite, feeling somewhat abandoned by her little brother. Laurel was not left to wallow for long, as Fred squeezed into the armchair next to her, and George lay comfortably on a pillow in the middle of the floor.

"Ugh," Laurel grimaced as Fred poked at her ear, slapping his hand away, "Just finished school and I still can't be rid of you," She glared at him, though her glare soon turned to a smirk as he began to look mockingly saddened.

"How was your last year, then, Charlie?" Bill suddenly asked, all eyes turned to the aforementioned Weasley, Charlie's eyes widened as he was put on the spot.

"It was..."

"Terrible!" George cried from the floor.

Fred continued on, "Now I can finally begin my love affair with dragons!" The twins both cackled with amusement, the rest of the gathering laughed along with them, though with considerably more restraint. Charlie rolled his eyes good-naturedly and his face became tinged a light red, hiding his abundant freckles.

"It was great," Charlie said louder than the laughs, "I can't say I'll miss school with those two."

"Glad I never had to deal with that," Bill said honestly, he had finished at Hogwarts just before the twins began, Fred and George glared while everyone else laughed at their expense.

Off to the side, a clearing throat made them all quieten and stare, Arthur had returned. His cheeks were a ruddy red that matched his hair, "Dinner's delayed an hour..." There was a disappointed uproar, Arthur held up his hands, "No one's going to starve, calm down!" He said firmly, ending on a fond chuckle.

After an hour of foretold hunger, a half hour of frenzied, and an hour of sated, friendly conversation, Laurel was to be found sitting curled up on the couch next to her godfather, the fireplace lit nearby with warm, crackling flames.

Deciding to breach the subject with bluntness, Laurel abruptly broke the silence between the two, "I've sorted everything out with Sirius." Remus stirred, looking down at her with furrowed brow.

"What, Sirius? What?" He seemed exceedingly confused, Laurel stretched out her legs towards the fire, wiggling her toes at the warmth.

"Mhmm, Dumbledore told me just before we left. He's arranged with the new Minster for Magic, Fudge, for a trial. Not public knowledge yet, but I reckon there'll be quite the uproar," Laurel said with a pleased smile, Remus remained confused.

"What, a trial?"

Laurel narrowed her eyes up at Remus, "Yes...a trial? 'Cause he didn't get one. Obviously. Else he'd be here with us now."

"What, why?" Remus looked worried, "Why now?"

"Dumbledore needed some incentive...to get things going."

"Incentive," Remus said shortly, sitting up straight and forcing Laurel to meet his gaze, his hand froze posed in the air in front of him, "You...blackmailed Dumbledore into getting a trial for...the man who be—who helped to—"

"Whoa, whoa, what?" Laurel stared up in disbelief, "You think that Sirius is guilty? Still?"

"What, of course! How else could—?" Remus cut himself off, looking down with a huff.

Laurel stood from the comfortable couch, the heat from the fire was unforgiving on her back, a feeling of disappointment rose steadily within her, "He's not," She said with complete certainty, "And it wasn't blackmail...this was the only way I could have done this...Sirius shouldn't have to rot in what is _almost literally_ hell because of my incompetence. Of course I'll do anything to get him out." With an angered huff, Laurel left Remus sitting alone in the living room of the Burrow.

 **12 July 1991. 10:13am**

It had been a week since leaving her second year at Hogwarts, since she had informed Remus of the situation with Sirius, and his resolve remained strong. Remus Lupin believed Sirius to be guilty of betraying her parents to Voldemort. Laurel allowed that Remus did have some cause to not believe that the secret keeper had been changed on that night, but she still thought her godfather should have a little faith in her.

Behind her, she could vaguely her brother chattering on about some adventure he and Ron had undertaken while Laurel at Hogwarts, Laurel shook her head and brought herself to the present, focusing on Harry.

"And then the spider scurried in his direction, he flipped out and screamed! Ran all the way back to where his mum was in the garden." Harry looked at her expectantly, she dutifully chuckled at his story, feeling immensely guilty that she had not paid more attention, even though Harry had told her the story at least a handful of times already.

Laurel patted the covers of the bed next to her and waited for Harry to land in place, throwing an arm around him, "So, how are you feeling about the trial?" She asked with some amount of trepidation; Sirius' trial had been announced publically and was to take place in approximately a fortnight's time.

"Uh, whose side are we on again?" Harry asked with a sheepish grin.

"Whosever y'want to be on, Harry," Laurel said with exasperation, tousling Harry's already wild hair.

"Whose side are you on, then?"

Laurel sighed, "Sirius didn't betray our parents," She said surely.

"Did you... _see_ it?" Harry quirked his brow in her direction, she snorted.

"Yes...but I also remember Sirius. He'd never do anything like they said he did." Laurel sighed tiredly.

"But then, why does Remus think he did?" Harry asked with hesitation.

"I couldn't tell you...maybe...it was a difficult time for him, he lost three of his best friends. Now I'm suddenly saying things happened differently after a decade," Laurel furrowed her brow, "I don't blame him."

The two sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, Laurel felt a tickle on her toes, then looked down to see that Luke had curled up by her feet, his tail swiping over them every now and then. Harry bent down and plucked Leia from where she was nestled under Luke's chin, stroking a finger down her silver back, her leathery wings beat once as her tiny tongue lolled out at the feeling with a click against her maw.

"Well, he'll believe after the trial, hopefully." Harry looked up at her, she nodded back distractedly, gaze focused on the tiny thestral figuring lounging in his hands.

"Hopefully," Laurel echoed, squeezing her brother tightly to her once more, then bounding up and off the bed, "Enough with this serious conversation, wanna go down the street to Pete's?"

A wide grin spread over Harry's face and he nodded excitedly, wild hair waving in the air with the movement. Laurel directed him past her with an arm flung out ahead of them, both shoved their feet into their respective shoes—both pairs left carelessly by the front door where they had been kicked off.

A few minutes later, Laurel and Harry had bounded down the street and were sitting in a table by the window, each with a sizeable ice-cream cone in hand—strawberry for Harry, mint choc-chip for Laurel. They chattered away with wide grins, both with smudges of ice cream around their lips, Laurel felt as though she had to savour this moment before the chaos of Sirius' trial that would surely hit soon. She snorted at Harry who had a dollop of pink on his nose, he grinned back, and she felt glad that she had him with her to weather the storm.


	29. Iūdicium

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Chapter Nine:** **Iūdicium [Judgement]**

 **27 July 1991. 5:02pm**

A single scuff mark stood out on the toe of her black, leather shoes as they tried to shine valiantly, it gave Laurel a sense of unease to see such a mar on an otherwise perfectly fine pair of shoes. Her gaze drifted to the side, where a second pair of shoes were swinging through the air—not of their own accord, they were attached to the similarly swinging feet of her brother, Harry—not a scuff in sight. Internally scolding herself for focusing on such a trivial thought, Laurel turned her attention back to the reason they were here.

The long-awaited trial of Sirius Black had been underway for approximately eight hours already, Laurel and Harry had been left under Molly Weasley's care for the day and had been instructed to wait in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic Headquarters until their adoptive father returned at the end of the trial. Which, if the watch on the witch passing by was correct and uninhibited by the magic pervading the air, should have been two minutes previously.

Now, a cool-headed Laurel would have realised that perhaps it took longer than a literal instant to journey from the court rooms to the Atrium, but that Laurel was not in attendance. Instead, in her place, was a nerve-wracked Laurel who, despite knowing full well that Sirius was innocent, was worried that her plan would fall to ruin and Sirius would be left to return back to Azkaban.

In an attempt to distract herself, Laurel began to look around the vast hall. It was certainly intimidating; polished, dark-wood floor, great, sweeping columns and the grand centre-piece of the Atrium: a large fountain depicting a wizard, a witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf as five shining, golden statues standing together. The fountain was intended as a monument to magical beings, but the witch and wizard stood tall as the lowly creatures looked on in adoration as if to remind the magical community who really ruled this nation. Laurel shivered at the thought, the low splashing of the jets of water causing a cold sensation to set deep into her veins.

"D'you reckon they're out yet?" Harry suddenly asked from beside her, Laurel turned to see his brow furrowed in worry. Steeling herself, if only for his sake, Laurel threw an arm around her younger brother and drew him close to her side.

"Maybe. Maybe not," she said vaguely, "Either way, everything's a-okay." Laurel felt as though her decidedly lax attempt at comforting her brother should be amended, but she was interrupted by the arrival of those they had been discussing.

"Laurel? Harry?" A quiet, gruff voice called from ahead of them, Laurel was looking at her brother and saw his eyes widen and face fall at seeing the owner of the voice, she followed his gaze and understood why there was a slight hint of fear slackening his features.

Sirius Black was standing by Remus, no chains in sight, but he still seemed a threatening picture. His hair was long and matted hanging loosely about his shoulders, his skin waxy and sallow, eyes sunken slightly and cheeks gaunt. Despite this, Laurel recognised the familiar shadow of mirth and love hiding in his sad and tired eyes as that of Sirius, best friend to her father and godfather to her brother. She forced her relieved and ecstatic smile wider to combat any pity that might cross her countenance and slid from the bench they had been relegated to, stepping forward to stand in front of Sirius.

"You...you're older," Sirius managed weakly, Laurel breathed in deeply, smile softening.

"Yeah, a bit," she replied awkwardly, glancing to the side to gauge how Remus was faring, he seemed to be almost as pale as Sirius; in a state of shock at seeing his best friend in a different light than that which had been cast by the Halloween night Laurel's parents died. Deciding that Remus would give her no guidance in this moment, and that she had to act, to erase the sadness from Sirius' eyes.

She heard a sharp intake of breath from somewhere above her as she stepped forward and fell into an embrace with Sirius, his arms curled reluctantly around her in a way that made Laurel all too aware that he had not been hugged for a decade. After a decidedly long and awkward moment, Laurel stepped back and let her arms fall to her side.

"Off free, then?" Laurel asked casually, Sirius' lips tried to quirk into a smile but it fell flat.

"Yeah."

Harry came up beside her, she saw Sirius stare listlessly at his godson who had been a baby the last time he had seen him, and likely did not remember anything of their bond or time together.

"Home?" Laurel prompted, kicking her foot back and toeing at the hardwood floors beneath her, shooting Remus a glance. She held a hand forward and pushed back his shoulder a bit, raising her brow at him when he met her gaze.

"Yeah, home," Remus managed, scratching at the back of his neck and gesturing with his other hand toward the right-side of the Atrium where a haphazard congregation of wizards and witches were lining up to leave via the blazing green fireplaces dotting the wall. Laurel pursed her lips and purveyed their odd group with narrowed eyes, Remus, Sirius and Harry trundled over to where Remus had directed them. Sirius stared ahead with a blankly dumbfounded yet hopeful light in his eyes, while Remus and Harry periodically glanced at Sirius with both trepidation and a hope similar to Sirius'.

The line moved forward at a reasonable pace, they soon stood by the heatless, flickering fire, faces bathed in an eerie green light. Laurel took the lead and bodily moved Harry ahead of the rest, urging him to go first. He took a pinch of the offered Floo Powder, threw it in the flames and stepped into the fire, bringing his elbows close in and clearly said, " _14b Duckett Road_."

Harry disappeared in a swooping flash of green flames, Laurel unceremoniously pinched her own handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the flames. She was gone in a short, " _14b Duckett Road_ ," surrounded by the flashing of green and orange flames, passing many hearths until she arrived at that which she had proclaimed as her destination. Laurel stepped out of the fireplace and into the living room of her home, belatedly noticing with no small amount of guilt that her shoes had left two perfect imprints of ashy dust on the rug that laid at a haphazard tilt in front of the fire.

Deciding that the rug was beyond her help, Laurel shook her hair of the dust that had gathered there from the Floo, and fell against the nearby couch where she noticed Harry was sitting curled up around a fluffy, grass-green pillow. Moments later, a flare of green flames flashed in the corner of her eyes and then became muffled once more, Sirius left in its place.

Sirius stood blankly in the fireplace for a moment, before he seemed to realise that it probably was not the best idea to stand in a fireplace in which another person was going to travel through, and he stepped forward. Laurel was amused to see him have a similar revelation as she had, and guiltily scuff his tattered shoes against the poor rug. In a fourth and final flash of brilliant green, Remus stepped out of the fireplace and moved past Sirius, shrugging off his coat. At his prompting, Laurel and Harry shrugged off their own coats and passed them to his awaiting hands.

"Take-away okay?" Remus asked distractedly as he hung up their coats by the door, Harry shuffled around and peeked his eyes above the back of the couch, they were crinkled and hinted at his smile. Laurel smiled as he nodded up and down, his wild hair floating along and contributing to his aura of enthusiasm, "And you, Laur?"

"Sounds good..." Laurel glanced thoughtfully between Remus and Sirius, "I'll take Harry down to the chippy! We'll bring back dinner..." She bounded up and rounded the couch, snatching hers and Harry's coats back from their hooks, gesturing to her brother with a nod of her head towards the door.

"Wh—but—?" Remus tried to protest, Laurel simply gave him a meaningful look with wide eyes, he furrowed his brow and sighed, opening the door for her and letting them rush out under his arm, "Very subtle," she heard him mumble behind them.

Laurel, with Harry dawdling slower behind her pulled along by her hand on his arm, flew down the narrow staircase and swung open the door to the street. They were assaulted by the bustling noises of the city, cars honking their horns and obnoxious pedestrians honking back with their screaming insults. Laurel clamped her hand tighter around Harry's arm and they set off down the street towards the elusive chip shop.

The cool night air brushed lightly against Laurel's face, her countenance lightened as the events of the day drifted further to the back of her mind, she began to focus on the goodness of the day. Despite the long-term effects of Sirius' imprisonment in Azkaban, he was free. The lapping waves of guilt were beginning to recede, or at least did not rise further from Laurel's feelings toward Sirius.

A tiny bell tinkled as Laurel pushed open the door to the chip shop, they entered to a gush of warmth that filled them to their toes. After Laurel hurriedly ordered their food—grateful at the lack of a queue—she directed Harry to sit with her at a ramshackle table pushed into the corner of the shop.

"What's with the rush?" Harry asked with wide eyes, jet-black hair hanging windswept about his ears. Laurel's lips tugged up in an amused smile and she reached out a hand across the rickety table to ruffle his hair and arrange it into something resembling a neat hairstyle. He grimaced and pushed her hand away, then began arranging his hair himself with a pout.

"No rush," Laurel maintained, nodding absent-mindedly in approval of Harry's attempts to wrangle the beast on his head, "Just hungry, I suppose."

"And why did I have to come with?"

Laurel raised her eyebrow and stared at her brother in disbelief, "To give Sirius and Remus a chance to catch up, doofus." She nudged his shoulder with a poking finger, "They haven't seen each other in, like, a decade, and Remus has thought that Sirius was a crazed murderer for all that time...I thought they might like a bit of time to gain some traction without a bunch of snot-nosed kids nipping at their ankles." She shot her brother an amused smirk, he looked back with suspicion but seemed to accept her reasoning.

"I don't nip at ankles," Harry combatted after a moment, shaking his head and looking forlornly towards the counter through the window to the kitchen where the scent of freshly cooking chips was wafting through.

"Still..." Laurel trailed off, looking down at a fading once-bright-green glob of gum that had been stuck against the side of the table. She sighed and rested her elbows against the top of the table and it wobbled precariously.

"Here y'are," a voice called from the shop counter, Laurel looked up to see the tired woman manning the shop holding out paper-wrapped parcel of chips in their general direction.

Accepting the parcel with a resounding, "Thank you," Laurel and Harry exited the shop and made their way—at a slower, sluggish pace—back home.

"D'you think everything's gonna be okay?" Harry suddenly said, scuffing his sneakers against the pavement, glancing up at his sister, "With Sirius, I mean. It's for sure, he didn't do it?"

The final word was loaded with meaning, an allusion to the event that changed both of their lives, the deaths of their parents. Laurel sighed heavily, hugging the warm parcel of chips closely to her chest and slinging an arm around Harry to bring him closer by her side.

"Yeah, don't you worry..." Laurel said firmly, "Sirius is a good man, he would never do anything to hurt you or me." Harry hummed in agreement, still managing to sound unsure. Laurel accepted his vague answer as the best she was going to get at that time, and focused on the short walk home, relishing in the time with her brother free of the burden of her duty to him and the rest of the Wizarding World.


	30. Epilogue: Pactus

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Three: Astra Inclinant [The Stars Incline Us]**

 **Epilogue:** **Pactus [Agreed]**

 **31 July 1991. 2:16pm**

Harry Potter's eleventh birthday was quite an understated affair. Well, when Laurel compared it to the eleventh birthday he would have had otherwise, it was practically a grand affair. Rather than Harry laying under a moth-eaten blanket on the cold, hard ground of a hut on a rock in the middle of the sea with his crazed aunt, uncle and cousin, Harry was surrounded by his family—Laurel, Remus and Sirius—under a fluffy, yellow blanket snuggled on a couch with a similar consistency to that of a marshmallow, each with a mug of hot chocolate.

There was an atmosphere of love and warmth that pervaded the room and gave the effect of magic hanging in the air. Even Sirius, being recently released from his imprisonment in the closest equivalent of hell on Earth, had colour in his cheeks and the ghost of a smile on his face.

 _The Goonies_ —a film of Harry's choice—was playing on the small television sequestered in the corner, the picture faded and fuzzy from the interference of magic on the muggle technology. On screen, the gang was discovering the long lost ship and Laurel glanced towards her brother. Harry's eyes were wide and his hands were gripping tightly to the blanket covering them, a corner of parchment paper stuck out from the pocket of his jumper; it was his Hogwarts letter. In about a month, Harry would be joining her at Hogwarts, and he had never been happier about a prospect in all of his life.

Laurel could imagine what he was thinking, that he would soon have adventures like the one playing out on the television. _Not if I have anything to say about it_ , Laurel thought with an amused smirk, a feeling of slight dread filling her as she imagined the efforts she would have to go to in keeping danger from Harry, the ultimate magnet for danger. It seemed to be an impossible endeavour, but it was one that Laurel was going to take on gladly.

As Mikey spoke of the legacy of "One-Eyed" Willy, the four watching the movie were startled by a knock at the door. Remus furrowed his brow and paused the VCR, then shuffled up to the front door and peeked through the peephole, his face fell and he shot an exasperated look back at Laurel, Harry and Sirius who stared back with wide, curious eyes. He turned the knob and the door swung open to reveal Albus Dumbledore standing outside, a sanguine smile decorating his face.

"Albus?" Remus asked, fishing for a reason why the Headmaster of Hogwarts was at their door.

"Remus. May I come in?" Albus did not give a reason, and also did not wait for an answer, stepping into the room, his bright purple robes swishing around him nonchalantly, "Harry, my dear. Happy birthday!" He said jubilantly, his blue twinkling.

Remus stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a furrowed brow, then spoke with confusion clouding his tone, "Why are you here?"

Dumbledore paused, glancing towards where Laurel and Harry were snuggled on the couch, then back to address Remus, "I've come to speak with Laurel."

At first, Laurel felt confused as to why Dumbledore felt the need to come to her house and talk with her, but then she caught sight of Sirius, who was staring at Dumbledore as if he had seen a ghost—or, as if he was a muggle who had just seen a ghost. Laurel remembered her deal with Dumbledore, Sirius' rightful freedom for Voldemort's horcrux.

With a sheepish laugh, Laurel stood and approached Remus who still seemed confused, "You remember that thing I had to do...?" He still seemed confused, she twisted her mouth and her gaze dropped to the floor, she lowered her voice so that only Remus, and perhaps Dumbledore, could hear, "You called it _blackmail_?"

Remus' eyes brightened with recognition, then immediately narrowed slightly as he huffed a disappointed sigh. Laurel was quick to defend herself, "Well, it all worked out well and good, didn't it?" She nodded vaguely towards Sirius, "Now I have to hold up my end of the deal." Laurel spared a glance for Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling as they often did, she grimaced and pulled Remus' arm, "I've got this," she huffed, pushing him towards Harry and Sirius.

Turning to Dumbledore, Laurel caught his gaze for a moment, he spoke, "Into the kitchen, then? For some privacy." Nodding vaguely, Laurel waved her hand towards the slightly more secluded kitchen and followed Dumbledore there.

Sitting down at the small wooden table, Dumbledore flicked his wand that had seemingly come from nowhere and conjured a white and baby-blue, porcelain teapot, along with two matching teacups. A low plume of earthy-scented smoke rose steadily from the spout of the teapot as if it had been freshly boiled, and Dumbledore poured the tea into the cups, then edged one closer to Laurel who had remained standing.

Laurel clenched her jaw and stared disbelieving at Dumbledore, before sighing and joining him at the table, picking up the teacup and taking a sip. _It tastes nice,_ Laurel bitterly admitted to herself. She held the cup in front of her mouth and inhaled the fumes, taking another sip.

"I believe we had an arrangement, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said simply, tilting his head forward in acknowledgement and taking a sip of his own cup.

Placing her cup abruptly on the table, flinching at the dull thud that she had not intended to create. Laurel sighed and drew her fingers across the tabletop, "I want to be sure you'll destroy it, and not...study it or wear it, or do anything stupid." She glanced down at his weathered right hand, envisioning it as blackened and withered as it would be if he wore the Gaunt ring, not trusting him to not make the same mistake.

"You don't trust me," Dumbledore said with certainty that Laurel wholly agreed with.

"I don't," Laurel spoke with a lightness that contradicted her heavy heart, "When school returns from summer break, I'll bring you the horcrux and I'll watch as you destroy it."

"That is not what we agreed upon." Dumbledore's slight, genial smile was frozen on his face.

"We didn't agree on any specifics," Laurel countered with narrowed eyes. Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"And how do I know you will do as you say?"

Laurel narrowed her eyes further and looked at him with incredulity, "I want Voldemort dead as much as anyone, he killed my parents! He—" Laurel cut herself off with an angry huff, "He...deserves to die once and for all. And you're going to help me...on my terms."


	31. Prologue: Intia

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Four: Sine Labore Nihil [Nothing Without Work]**

 **Prologue:** **Initia [Beginnings]**

 **1 September 1991. 11:02am**

A high whistle filled the air as a scarlet-red and black train hissed to a start, a grey plume of smoke billowing in the air and streaming slowly along the tops of the train cars. The smoke followed the gaining movement of the train, drifting lazily up towards the mostly clear blue sky as the train began to leave the station. Within the first train car, two children were peering out of the small window on the door that had been hastily closed a minute previously, as soon as the train had stuttered to a start.

The smaller of the two, Harry, with his wild hair and bright emerald eyes, had his nose almost pressed against the glass of the window. Harry's gaze followed the bounding movement of a shaggy, black dog—the recently exonerated Sirius Black in his Animagus form—as he zig-zagged through the hustling witches and wizards still gathered on the platform. Sirius seemed to not mind if he brushed his less-than-clean hair across the legs of those more expensively dressed, also seeming to delight in the havoc he was causing.

The taller of the two, Laurel, shared an amused glance with the man who was following the dog listlessly—her and her brother's adoptive father, Remus. Laurel gave both the man and the dog a quick wave and nudged Harry to do the same. Soon the train had made its way out of King's Cross, out of the grey and dismal city, and into the sweeping green hills of the countryside. Laurel nudged her brother again, this time prompting him to shuffle along the narrow hall to find an empty compartment for the journey to Hogwarts.

"Did Ron tell you which compartment he was gonna get?" Laurel asked with a yawn, not used to getting up by the early, _early_ time of nine in the morning. Despite the two hour window, they had arrived somewhat late to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, due to an unforeseeable encounter of Sirius with a particularly unruly gaggle of ducks that had invaded their backyard. Luckily, they had made it just in time to board the train and were safely on the way to school for another year at Hogwarts—or for their first year at Hogwarts in Harry's case.

"No..." Harry said sheepishly, Laurel was not surprised by his answer and continued to survey the compartments as they passed, huffing with the weight of her trunk as she dragged it.

Laurel's attention snapped to her brother as she heard a low smash and a high squawk, "Whoa, Harry...careful with his cage." She steadied his hand, which had the origin of the aforementioned squawk within, his feathers ruffling. With her interference in Harry's intended upbringing, Laurel had been slightly worried as to how she would find Harry's beloved pet owl Hedwig. That was until they had stopped by Diagon Alley a week before in an effort to locate their school books, and a runaway snowy owl from Eeylop's Owl Emporium had flown into Sirius' still-tangled mane of curls. After some manoeuvring, Sirius had been freed and Harry had persuaded Remus to allow him to keep the owl as a pet.

Harry smiled sheepishly up at her and righted Hedwig's cage, whispering a short apology to the ruffled owl, Hedwig pecked daintily at her wings but otherwise gave no response. Laurel smiled at the two, then turned her gaze back to the compartments, and brightened as she spotted that it was full of boys with bright ginger hair. She threw out a hand and stopped Harry, who looked back in confusion. Without explaining, she slid the door open and shoved inside.

"Fred. George. Ron." Laurel greeted each with a smile, the twins bounded up and took hold of her, managing to lift and wedge up in the overhead storage with the others, "Whoa, whoa..." Laurel stopped her brother from fully entering with a hand, "No little brothers in the big kids' compartment."

"What? C'mon..." Harry groaned, Laurel shot him an amused yet entirely unapologetic smile.

"That means you too, Ronnie-kins," Fred added with a huff, swiping the imaginary sweat from his forehead.

"Ugh, you three are the worst," Ron mumbled to himself around a liquorice wand, seeming torn between glaring annoyed at them and indulging in his delicious treat. Seeing that her trunk was safely stored, Laurel edged back out of the compartment and side-stepped a few feet to peer into the next, spotting two people sitting timidly within—obviously first years. Narrowing her eyes and stepping closer, she examined the two and her face lit up in recognition.

One of the two was a girl with copious amounts of bushy, brown hair and a rather large text book sitting heavily in her lap. The other was a boy with a round face and a rather energetic toad in his hands struggling to get free. Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. Taking a moment to calm her fan-girl sensibilities, Laurel looked back to see Harry and Ron catching up in front of the compartment she and the twins had claimed. With a hushed shout, Laurel called them both over, they complied with annoyed reluctance at being disturbed.

Laurel slid open the door and poked her head through the gap, both Neville and Hermione turned to stare at her with wide eyes, she smiled wide and spoke, "Room for two more first years?"

"Uh..." Neville gulped and his fingers slipped, the toad in his hands—Trevor, Laurel recalled—leaped out of his lap and bounced towards the cracked open door. With a shriek, Laurel ducked onto her knees and slapped her hands down on the floor, trying to trap the toad. Alas, she had not caught the shifty toad. Laurel spied the toad sitting stalled near her knee and quickly wrapped her hands around it.

"Holy...whoa, keep a tighter grip next time," she hurriedly passed the slimy toad off to Neville, who mumbled apologies and agreed readily to her suggestion.

"Why didn't you use your wand? I think a freezing charmwould have caught it faster. _Immobulus_ , isn't it?" Hermione spoke smartly, Laurel glanced at her to see a look of disapproval staring back.

"Uh..." Laurel hummed with considerably less intelligence, she stood up and dusted off her knees, "Sure, I could've done that...but it's never good to rely on magic too much." She shifted her gaze awkwardly, not wanting to admit that her wand had found its way stuffed into the back of her spare jeans earlier that morning, and was currently sitting in her trunk where it was stored in the next compartment over. She had been too lazy to locate it, when it was not likely she would need it until the first day of classes—runaway toads being an uncommon occurrence.

Hermione pursed her lips and hummed thoughtfully, seeming to agree somewhat to Laurel's sentiment, "Are these the two first years you were talking about?" She studied them up and down, "They can stay, I suppose."

"Great!" Laurel smiled widely, stepping back out of the compartment and ushering the reluctant Ron and Harry in, Harry shot her a wary look, likely at her insistence on shoving the four of them together, "Well...I'll leave you four to your introductions...I'm Laurel, by the way. Uh, I'll be in the compartment over if you need anything." She looked meaningfully at Harry, who narrowed his eyes and seemed to blush, perceiving her to be smothering him.

Shooting them one last pleased grin, Laurel slid the door shut and slinked back to her own compartment, internally hoping that the four would become great friends sooner rather than later. As she entered the pink-smoke filled compartment she had relegated herself to by befriending the twins all those years ago, Laurel thought that perhaps that was being a bit too optimistic—nothing ever seemed to go completely to plan. A low yowl came from the cage she had shoved onto the seat beside her, inside Luke the cat glared his bright blue eyes at her, as if she was the culprit for the smoke. Laurel could not bring herself to be too moved by his plight—at least the smoke smelled of strawberries, most smoke created by the twins usually smelled of nastier things, namely sulfur.


	32. Constringitur

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Four: Sine Labore Nihil [Nothing Without Work]**

 **Chapter One:** **Constringitur [Frozen]**

 **2 September 1991. 7:49am**

After only one night at Hogwarts, Laurel was already experiencing doubts as to how she was to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort and save the friends and family she had come to love outside of her love for them as characters. The most pressing matter was Professor Quirrel. Laurel had never been the most apt of people, but it seemed entirely idiotic to overlook the first appearance of Voldemort after his supposed defeat on the night her parents died. She comforted herself by remembering that she had a lot to deal with—namely the horcrux lying in wait at the bottom of her trunk, and the debacle with Sirius' trial. Still, Laurel was kicking herself the next morning at breakfast.

A piece of buttered bread in hand, Laurel stared up at the head table with wide eyes at the aforementioned Professor Quirrel, watching as he stuttered and stumbled in his conversation with the sullen Professor Snape. Nervous fingers periodically came up to adjust the purple turban that was wrapped tightly around his head, under which Voldemort was hidden. It seemed almost ridiculous, a dark wizard resigned to living under a stuffy turban. It did not seem so ridiculous to Laurel, an icy-cold feeling of terror was eking into her veins. The man who murdered her parents hidden in the very place that was supposed to be impenetrable and entirely safe.

"Laurel, you look pale...very pale." A condescending voice brought her out of her stupor, she realised that she had been staring for quite some time, the buttered bread raised in front of her as if in defence from Quirrel and his turban-hidden dark lord. It was Percy Weasley, he stared at her with concern, but still managed to make her feel incredibly stupid.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, quickly snapping a bite of the bread. Laurel began to study the timetable in her hand, not really seeing the words. Instead, she ruminated on her predicament, cursing her astounding ability to forget events that she knew for a certainty would come to pass. _Quirrel_ , she thought to herself with a grimace, _something has to be done about that_. In another effort to lighten her guilt, Laurel reminded herself that even if she had remembered, she was not likely to cause Dumbledore to second guess himself. Being a man of at least one century in age, it was somewhat understandable that he thought of himself as a person unable to be tricked. Though Laurel knew that future events were likely to prove that wrong for Dumbledore.

With a sigh, she rubbed a finger over her tired eyes and consigned herself to additional night of plotting. She glared down at a thin strip of yellowed parchment that lay innocently on the table before her, thin, emerald lettering peeking out from where it had been folded haphazardly. Dumbledore had promptly sent her an owl that very morning, not wasting time in his quest for possession of Voldemort's horcrux; he had ordered her to meet with him that afternoon. Obviously, Laurel could not be trusted with such a dangerous object. _Never mind the fact that I found it in the first place, and have kept it safe ever since_ , she thought with derision.

"You don't seem okay..."

"Never have I seen someone glare at porridge with such intensity." George agreed with his twin. Laurel stumbled out of her angry thoughts once more with a weak smile directed at her friends. She waved them off with words not entirely truthful and concentrated wholeheartedly on consuming the piece of toast, which had since turned cold and quite unappetising. Looking down at her timetable—this time seeing the printed words—she saw that she had Transfiguration first up. Laurel brightened fractionally—despite McGonagall's decidedly severe method of teaching, she had always been fair and impartial in doing so. _Transfiguration first, Quirrel later_ , Laurel decided to herself.

 **2 September 1991. 4:34pm**

Laurel sat cross-legged in a small alcove behind a suit of polished armour waiting. Across from her the gargoyles poised at the base of the winding stairs to Dumbledore's office glanced periodically at her with suspicion. The meeting had been set for half-four, Laurel was waiting ten minutes after this to arrive. Laurel admitted that this was somewhat—entirely—petty, but could not find it in herself to care. Ten minutes was not a long time to wait in a life as long as Dumbledore's, Laurel reasoned that he would likely think nothing of it.

Glancing down at her misshapen jumper pocket, where Voldemort's diadem horcrux had been hidden for the duration of her walk from Gryffindor Tower, Laurel thought that perhaps she should amend her decision to wait ten minutes. A shiver ran through her, the creeping feeling of cold and terror that accompanied the horcrux was beginning to overwhelm her, it seemed as though it was beginning to seep into her veins. _Five minutes is enough_ , she assured herself with an officious nod as she stood and slipped out of the alcove.

The gargoyles stared at her through narrowed eyes, Laurel felt unfairly judged by them. Narrowing her eyes right back, Laurel slid her hand into her pocket. Shuddering as she accidentally touched the diadem—she faltered as a shiver ran up her finger, up her arm and settled in her chest—Laurel snapped out of her daze and snatched the tiny piece of parchment that had been snuggled in with the horcrux.

Sighing at the password that Dumbledore had transcribed at the bottom of the note as if it was an afterthought, Laurel spoke to the waiting gargoyles, "Avocado crisps dipped in pistachio yoghurt." They shared a glance, then there was a scratching sound as the stone began to move and twirl out of the way, the spiral staircase lifting out of the ground and winding its way up to Dumbledore's office. "That was oddly specific," Laurel huffed to herself as she hurriedly stepped up the stairs, clicking open the golden, curved handle of the door, and promptly entering the Headmaster's office.

"Miss Potter," Dumbledore greeted her soundly, Laurel jumped slightly at the abruptness of his voice. He was standing to the side, shining brightly from his silvery robes as the star pattern decorating them alternated between blinding white and stark blue colours—likely charmed to do so. _Say what you will about Dumbledore, he has never been afraid to express himself through a strange set of robes_ , Laurel thought grudgingly.

Before she focused too hard on said robes, Laurel strode across the room, bypassing Dumbledore, and sat in the chair across from his desk. She looked back at him expectantly, wishing for him to follow her example and sit at his desk, _straight to business_. Laurel could have predicted that Dumbledore would not do so. He simply returned to his studying of the fine-stone basin in front of him.

Despite herself, Laurel was enraptured by the sight of what she knew to be the Pensieve. A stone basin filled with water, the water interspersed with shining, white strands of memory. The ability to look upon any memory one so chose to was one that interested Laurel. _Perhaps then I wouldn't forget important things...like the existence of Lord Voldemort on the back of the new Defence professor's head_ , Laurel mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Though she was interested by the Pensieve, she was more interested in finishing the meeting with Dumbledore.

"Professor, I have the horcrux. Do you have a way of destroying it?" Laurel asked firmly, raising her brow towards the Headmaster.

Dumbledore gave a long sigh, "It worries me, my dear. How you seem to distrust me." He shot her a tired smile, Laurel grimaced but remained unrelenting.

"This horcrux is a piece of the man who murdered my parents—and a lot of other good witches and wizards. You must be able to understand some of my distrust." Laurel huffed in annoyance, scratching lightly at the material of her jumper where the diadem was hidden. Dumbledore hummed lightly, his eyes lowering in understanding. Laurel thought suddenly of the one person who she knew for a fact caused Dumbledore grief—his sister, Ariana. Dumbledore himself had hunted down the dark wizard Grindelwald for the part he played in Ariana's death—never mind his own part in her death—so perhaps he honestly could understand what Laurel was trying to say.

Dumbledore continued to say nothing, but Laurel saw his gaze drop to where her hands were fidgeting around the protruding shape of the diadem. Her fingers stilled and she furrowed her brow fractionally.

"It's in your pocket?" Dumbledore asked hesitantly. Laurel remained silent, a sense of foreboding rising as she realised his tone to be incredulous, "A piece of Lord Voldemort's soul is resting in your pocket, no protection from any who would think to take it."

Laurel narrowed her eyes at her Headmaster in confusion, "I'm a third year...not exactly an ace at charms, yet. No one but you even knows about the horcruxes, anyway. I didn't think it to be in much danger from thieves."

Another long sigh from Dumbledore, "Laurel, this has gone far enough," he said simply.

"What?" Laurel said abruptly, rising from her chair and placing a steadying hand on its back. Dumbledore took a step toward her and her gaze snapped to his hand where she suddenly saw that he had his wand grasped between its long, spindly fingers, "What?" Laurel repeated for lack of a better word. She nudged the chair backwards across the floor as she backed away, swallowing around her dry throat.

" _Immobulus_ ," Dumbledore said simply with a swish of his wand, an electric blue pulse of magic shot at Laurel and hit her in an instant. Laurel's heartbeat was heavy in her chest as she found herself unable to move, Dumbledore remained calm while she tried to open her mouth to speak or shout or scream. But she could not move. Her mind reeled as she realised what was happening—the Headmaster of Hogwarts had attacked her.

Dumbledore approached her steadily, hand raising to open the pocket of her sweater. Laurel tried to flinch away but it was as if she was made of stone; Dumbledore smiled as he surfaced the discoloured gold diadem, fingers running reverently over the twisted metal, and faltering on the shining emerald-green gem set in the centre. She tried to scream and rage at the man who had betrayed her trust, but remained frozen.

If anything, Laurel wished to warn him from holding the diadem, from touching it with such veneration. It was a dark object, one likely to whisper in the mind of any who touch it, to say anything and all to pull them under its spell. For all his actual intellect, Dumbledore had proven in the alternate future Laurel was so desperate to change that he was susceptible to such a spell. On a crazed whim, he had tried on the Gaunt ring and attempted to use the Resurrection stone embedded within to speak to his long deceased sister. It had caused his death.

As Dumbledore continued to inspect the horcrux, his face changed, likely as the darkness began to spread its tendrils out toward him. Laurel commanded him in her thoughts to put it down, hoping that he might hear and comply. As if it had worked, Dumbledore placed the diadem on his desk, then returned his attention back to her.

"Now, Miss Potter..." Dumbledore pursed his lips and softened his eyes, "I trust you'll not tell any of what has happened here. It was not your place to keep the horcrux for yourself, I mean to bring an end to Voldemort the same as you." Laurel willed her eyes to narrow, but as they would not she simply thought of terrible incidents happening to Dumbledore, willing him to hear them despite her desire to not have him anywhere near her mind. "I _am_ sorry, my dear. But I trust you enough to leave you your memories," Dumbledore seemed to hesitate, fingers fidgeting over his wand as he stared intently into Laurel's frozen eyes. She relented in her thoughts and pleaded with any that would listen, Laurel wanted nothing more than to move freely, to leave this office and never speak with Dumbledore again. She thought she could trust him; she was wrong.

Dumbledore sighed and, as if he had heard her thoughts—which he very possibly could have—he raised his wand and quietly said, " _Stupefy_ ," and the world was dark.


	33. Praesidium

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Four: Sine Labore Nihil [Nothing Without Work]**

 **Chapter Two:** **Praesidium [Protection]**

 **3 September 1991. 3:22am**

Laurel woke with a start. Her gasping breaths were loud in the otherwise silent room, she opened her eyes to nothing but darkness. Gulping around her unbearably dry throat, Laurel slowed her breaths in an attempt to calm herself, and sat up, feeling the squishy surface beneath her. Laurel determined that she was in a bed. Feeling to the side, she noted that the bed was surrounded by heavy, velvet curtains on each side; she was in a four-poster bed at Hogwarts. The calm silence, stillness of the inky-black darkness and the knowledge that she was safe at Hogwarts made her breathing slow to an acceptable level, she noticed her heart slowing with it and was surprised that she had not felt it—perhaps due to an overabundance of the sensation, she mused to herself with a grimace.

Her heart gave a loud thump against her chest as she considered what she had decided a moment earlier: that she was safe at Hogwarts. Laurel remembered what had happened before she awoke—Dumbledore had frozen her, stole the horcrux and stunned her into unconsciousness. _Not so safe at Hogwarts, then_ , Laurel revised her statement. A feeling of unease rising within at the statement which would usually be paradoxical, as many knew Hogwarts as a home away from home, a place where one could never be truly hurt. Laurel should have known better, but it seemed she was exceedingly liable to ignoring her own foreknowledge.

Laurel cursed this trait of hers, but decided to strike it from her mind for the moment, instead parting the curtains with shaking fingers from the cold of the night air and reaching out toward the side where her bedside table would be—assuming she had, in fact, found herself in her own bed in Gryffindor Tower. Her fingers met hard wood and she felt somewhat better, despite the stinging sensation rising through her fingers from their hard landing on the table. Laurel walked her fingers forward and quirked a smile as they met her wand, wrapping them around it to bring it into her bed with her, the curtains fluttered shut again with a whisper.

Laurel muttered a quick, " _Lumos_ ," but was remiss when the spell did not work. With a furrowed brow, Laurel brought her left hand up to her wand and rolled her eyes in the direction that was most likely skywards as she realised that the small, twisted knot near the base of her wand was located far away from where her fingers had clasped. Laurel wordlessly twirled her wand so that the aforementioned knot was hidden underneath her thumb, and repeated the spell with a tiny flick.

She squinted her eyes at the bright, shining light that erupted from the tip of her wand, smiling as her dark-wood wand came into focus before her. Gratitude swelled up within her at the sight, but tampered down as she realised that Dumbledore was undeserving of such praise—being that he had only decided to forgo stealing her wand after attacking her, and had done nothing but make her life, and the lives of those she loved, unnecessarily complicated.

Deciding to remove Dumbledore from her thoughts for the time being, Laurel focused on the room around her. She pulled the curtain back again and squinted her eyes against the darkness, to her right she saw Alicia Spinnet sleeping soundly, her curtains tied back, with an impressive pool of drool collected near her chin. Mentally filing that image for later torment, Laurel glanced toward the other side of her to see that Mei Nakano also had her curtains tied back, and was sleeping with a grace that frankly astounded Laurel. No one seemed to be panicking, which Laurel counted towards her theory that Dumbledore had taken her to the dorm and made it appear as though she had simply crashed in her bed to go to sleep early.

For a final time, Laurel pushed aside the strangeness of Dumbledore's actions and focused on her surroundings. Leaning forward and pushing the tip of her wand against the bedside table, Laurel saw that the emerald-green alarm clock adorned with the yellow mirror-K's of the Kenmare Kestrels—Mei's favourite Quidditch team—that Mei had bought the year before—after the fifth time she had slept in—proclaimed it to be almost a quarter to four in the morning. Laurel had lost about twelve hours...half a day. That creeping feeling of dread began to settle over her once more, she felt violated and incredibly unsafe. It was at that moment that she saw a streaking shadow leap up onto the bed beside her, Laurel startled and whipped her wand toward where the shadow had moved to.

Laurel's wand hit it with a dull snap, an annoyed hiss followed. She realised it was only Luke the cat with a sigh of relief, her wand hand snapped back and his creamy-white fur became illuminated. Luke's icy blue eyes seemed colder still as they glared wholeheartedly at her. In true-cat fashion, Luke simply settled low over his paws and laid down on the bed, closed his eyes and began to purr. Laurel ruffled the fur around his ears, then followed his lead and settled back down in her bed. Laurel decided that she would sleep the remaining two and a half hours until her stomach demanded she get up for breakfast, then she would worry about invasions of privacy and teachers attacking students. And evil wizards hiding on the back of a certain professor's head. Sleep first, panic later.

 **3 September 1991. 7:05am**

It was an early morning for Laurel Potter, she felt as though she had not slept a minute. _The giant shadows under my eyes would certainly suggest that_ , Laurel thought with a grimace as she rubbed at said shadows with hesitant fingers. Beside her, it seemed as though her younger brother felt much the same way, his wild, dark hair drifting a few inches in the air above his head, his glasses sliding listlessly down the bridge of his nose. After a nudge from Laurel, Harry has risen from his stupor to sip every now and then from a glass of pumpkin juice, as well as take a bite from some marmalade-laden toast.

"What's up? You look tired..." Laurel said abruptly, belatedly cursing the aforementioned abruptness. Harry looked up at her dazedly with a furrowed brow.

"So do you!" He said defensively, taking another bite, then smiling wide at her offended look. Laurel raised one eyebrow and tried to convey that there would be consequence unknown to even her if he did not answer her question. Harry sighed and rested her chin on his fist, "It's Snape."

"Ugh, of course it is," Laurel turned to glare up at the head table, but was remiss to find that Snape was not there. Quirrel, however, received the full force of her dirty look, and paled dramatically, the hand holding his goblet shaking so hard that juice spilled over the side. Laurel did not feel sympathy for the man with Voldemort hiding on the back of his head, but nonetheless stopped her glare and turned back to her brother, "What'd he do? Besides the usual scare tactics?"

Harry huffed a tired laugh, "He called me, uh, 'our new celebrity'...and then proceeded to ask a bunch of questions only _Hermione_ would know."

Laurel barely restrained herself from striking the person beside her with an angrily flailing arm, and took a deep, calming breath. She thought that his avoidance of her would transfer to Harry, but _obviously not_.

"I'll yell at him later for you, I think I have potions today," Laurel said with a comforting smile, then reached down to pull her bag up onto the bench beside her. She rifled around her bag, stopping when she heard a disconcerted yelp from Harry beside her.

"What! No!" Harry stared at her with wide, horrified eyes, his head shook emphatically, "No you will not...I'll deal with it myself! Okay..." He looked at her hopefully, Laurel slumped in her seat.

"Well," Laurel started, then stopped and examined her brother, "Fine...but if you keep looking as though you went three rounds with a bear, then I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Fine..." Harry looked immensely relieved—though his protests did not sway Laurel in the least, she intended on still having that talk with Snape—he took a final bite of his toast, "Thanks for offering, though."

"Offering what?" A voice piped in from over Laurel's shoulder, she turned to see Fred looking at her excitedly, George's head was peeking around his twin's shoulder with a look of equal excitement.

"Offering none of your business, Fred," Laurel said simply, finishing off her goblet of pumpkin juice with her nose wrinkled to stave off the taste—whoever thought of that flavour must have burned their tastebuds off in some unfortunate accident, but not much else was available.

"You're no fun!" George proclaimed with a pout, Laurel hummed in agreement, the words not striking her as George might have liked.

Laurel turned her attention back to her bag, and rifled further until she managed to surface her timetable. She pushed her bag back down under the seat and flattened her timetable against the table in front of her—it had regrettably not seen an easy life in the depths of her backpack, and was riddled with creases. After a moment of scrutinising, Laurel determined that she had Potions in the very last period of the day. Though Laurel would prefer not to initiate contact with Snape, it just had to be done. She had removed the negative influence of the Dursley's from Harry's life, now she had to do the same with Snape.

 **3 September 1991. 3:03pm**

It had been a typically uncomfortable Potions lesson for the third year Gryffindors and whichever House's third years happened to be paired with them for that year—Laurel was sure that it was her presence that caused Snape to restrain his verbal abuse of students, as the horror stories persevered throughout the rest of his classes. However, there had been some conflict when an unknown student—who Laurel knew to be one or both of the Weasley twins—had slipped a newt's eye into a Ravenclaw student's potion. The resultant outward blast of molten, hot potion had thankfully been restrained by a quick shielding spell by that Ravenclaw student, but Laurel felt that if the culprit had been known, some light torture would have occurred.

Nonetheless, the lesson ended promptly at three in the afternoon, and all students hurriedly rushed from the classroom. Laurel halted just before she exited the classroom, staring forlornly after Fred and George who were bounding down the corridor with fanged Frisbees in hand, likely intent upon causing some property damage, or at least some more work for Filch to deal with.

Laurel steeled herself and turned warily to face Snape, who had not noticed she remained in the class. His head was tilted down as he furiously wrote notes on the homework he had set over the holidays, glaring at the parchment as if it had personally offended him, Laurel could indeed see that the page was almost covered in bright red ink.

"Professor?" She started, voice hard. Snape's head snapped up to where she was standing and she saw his eyes widen minutely, before they narrowed once more in his usual disdainful stare.

"Class is over, Miss Potter," he said with a finality that Laurel resented greatly.

"I wanted to speak with you about my brother." Snape's gaze rolled upwards and a sneer overtook his countenance automatically, Laurel took in this sneer and anger rose like fire through her chest and seemed to take form in her words, "Yes!" Laurel exclaimed loudly, causing Snape to turn his glare towards her once more, "That's what I'm here to talk about...your _frankly_ unfair, completely biased opinion of my brother!" Laurel took a calming breath, but hurriedly began speaking once more as she saw that Snape was about to take advantage of her silence, "He is not James Potter."

At her words, Snape faltered, to such a small degree that none who expected such a reaction would catch it. Laurel stared into his cold, black eyes and nodded emphatically, "He isn't! He really isn't, okay?" She saw that he was about to protest, and held up a stilling hand—a small part of her thought that him being her professor might warrant a less controlling gesture, but a larger part of her argued that his...decidedly _personal_ tie to her overrode this. Nonetheless, it worked, and Snape quietened once more. Laurel gulped around her dry throat and tried to prepare herself for the unpleasant argument they were surely about to have—the thought of poor Harry being attacked by Snape helped immensely.


	34. Inceptum

**Laurel: A Very Long and Very Unusual Second Life**

 **Part Four: Sine Labore Nihil [Nothing Without Work]**

 **Chapter Three:** **Inceptum [Initiative]**

 **3 September 1991. 3:09pm**

The room was silent, save the tinny echo of something dripping in the far corner of the Potions classroom—likely some fluorescent goo escaping one of the many glass jars holding various ingredients and petrified magical animals that lined the back wall. Laurel took a deep breath and walked forward from where she stood in the doorway, stopping a few feet from the front of Snape's desk to address him fully.

"I know that you don't exactly like kids...but even you have to admit that Harry has done _nothing_ to you. It's...frankly, childish," Snape's eyes narrowed at the word, Laurel felt a flicker of fear despite herself, "to judge him based on your hatred for his...our father." Laurel's gaze drifted nervously to the floor. "If anything, judge him by your love for our mother..." Laurel's lips pursed as she remembered Lily Potter, a woman full of love and life who Laurel had missed dearly for the decade she had been gone.

"Miss Potter," Snape said, his jaw clenched with either anger or despair—Laurel hoped it might be the latter but logic dictated it was the former—he continued promptly, "Please leave."

Laurel stared at the man sitting before her with sad, tired eyes, she examined his sallow skin, his cold, dark eyes and his stringy, dark hair. To her, he seemed quite sad—and this made her sad. She pulled her backpack tighter around her arms and backed away towards the door, pausing only to speak one last time, "I will not allow you to hurt my brother." Laurel stared into his eyes, trying to convey the deepest sincerity of her words with their shared gaze.

Without another word, Laurel turned and left the classroom, and hurried down the abandoned corridor. Her footsteps echoed as loud as her heartbeat as it thumped angrily in her chest, she gasped a breath that regrettably hid a sob and rounded the corner, promptly colliding with another body. Her arms shot out to grasp at the other's arms, she startled out of her oblivion and stared into the wide open, warm brown eyes of her assailant.

The warm eyes and the bright orange shock of hair contrasted so greatly to the cause of her upset that Laurel almost cried out from surprise and happiness. She spied the tiny, darker freckle under his left eye and fell gratefully into Fred's open arms. Laurel stood on the tips of her toes and buried her chin into Fred's neck, and spied George lingering just behind him, she threw out her arm and grabbed at his shirt sleeve, pulling him into the embrace.

"Are you okay? What did Snape do?" Fred asked in a mumble against the top of her head.

"Did he bring out the water torture?" George asked with worry clouding his tone.

"Did he pull your teeth with pliers?"

"Did he take points away from Gryffindor?"

Fred gasped at what George had suggested, pulling away to stare into Laurel's eyes with mock horror twisting his face into a silent scream. Laurel snorted a giggle and buried her face in her hand, a blush rose to stain her cheeks as she felt truly tickled by their efforts to cheer up their clearly upset friend. _These are good people_ , Laurel thought simply, pulling Fred back into the hug, _these are my friends_.

 **4 September 1991. 5:29pm**

In Gryffindor Tower the fire was blazing, the armchairs were comparable to marshmallows and the children were laughing and talking amongst themselves gleefully. Laurel was sitting by herself in an armchair that had been shoved hastily against the wall to make way for the epic game of Exploding Snap that had unfolded on the floor in the middle of the Common Room. As another pair of once beautiful eyebrows met their match in the incendiary cards, Laurel felt no remorse for sitting the game out. Though, she would rather be spending her time on a more enjoyable alternative.

To others, Laurel seemed lost in her thoughts, but to Laurel she was intensely focused on just how exactly she was going to deal with the Voldemort-is-on-the-back-of-Quirrel's-head situation. Ultimately, Laurel decided that, as Voldemort was a veritable leech sucking Quirrel's power from him, he was only as powerful as Quirrel was—which Voldemort was well aware of, which is why he would eventually try to steal the Philosopher's Stone. If he succeeded in this, he would regain his power. Thus, Laurel would have to steal the Philosopher's Stone before he could attempt to—as Harry would have done originally.

Laurel could leave the situation alone and it would likely resolve itself with Harry defeating Voldemort for the second time, but big sisters did not let their little brothers become exposed to evil dark lords. Surprised at the swiftness in which she had theoretically resolved the Voldmort-leech debacle, Laurel treated herself to a Jammie Dodger from the shiny silver tray on the table beside her—the House Elves were very good at anticipating the needs of the Gryffindors, which included vast quantities of biscuits after long school days.

She smiled around the biscuit as a loud, panicked shout overtook the room; a plume of smoke rose steadily from the floor as a First year predictably lost a hand. The rest of the room erupted into cheers, the First year's opponent pumped a fist into the air in victory. As Laurel finished off the biscuit, and nibbled at the crumbs that decorated her fingers, she thought of another reason to take the Philosopher's Stone: incentive. If she took the Stone, she might have an advantage over Dumbledore, after he stole the Diadem from her. Additionally, her presence in this world seemed to disturb Dumbledore, as if he knew that his plans were being subverted as he created them. Evidently, this made him more susceptible to immoral actions—she did not exactly trust him not to use the Stone for his own benefit.

It disturbed her slightly to overlook her main mission—finding and destroying the horcruxes. Laurel reconciled this with the thought that they were not so readily available to her and might take years to find, even with knowing where some were. The Stone, however, was awaiting her in the very castle she was in. The lack of equal standing with Dumbledore disturbed her greatly, and she would do almost anything to rectify that. The horcruxes could wait.

 **6 September 1991. 11:08am.**

Greenhouse atmosphere in Greenhouse Three on the first Friday of the new school year was decidedly relaxed. Professor Sprout was evidently feeling generous, which Laurel thought might have something to do with the fact that half of the class were Hufflepuffs—whom she was Head of House for—and had broken out the previous year's Puffapods. Puffapods were quite delightful magical plants-each pod filled with dozens of beans that would instantly flower upon contact with a solid object.

Each student was allotted a single pod, Laurel was pleased see that hers was a particularly soft and sweet shade of pink, with the darker splotches being an exciting hot-rod red. The only downside to Puffapods was the strong aroma of mooncalf dung that followed each pod. Mooncalf dung smelled similar to any other kind of dung—so, it was an ultimately unpleasant addition.

"You may open your pods now...quickly, all!" Professor Sprout beamed at her students, her cheeks ruddy with the usual pleasant blush.

Laurel ducked out of the way as Fred lunged for the knife that was sitting precariously atop a tower of muddy books in the centre of their table, Cedric Diggory did the same, colliding comically with George who remained unfazed—obviously used to unsafe knife handling practices.

"Careful, you tosser..." Laurel said, punctuating the insult with a slap to Fred's shoulder, careful to move out of the way of the knife as Fred directed it towards the Puffapod in his lap, "Put it on the table! What—!" Laurel stared at him in disbelief, and hurriedly gripped his hand in hers, stilling the knife before it would swing downwards through the Puffapod, and likely through his leg. She prised his fingers from the knife and picked up his Puffapod, almost dropping it from the stickiness of the pod's membrane.

"Hey!" Fred protested, Laurel stared at him with no remorse, and dropped the pod onto the table, it jiggled slightly at the impact, the shining beans inside jostling around.

"Why is it so sticky, anyway?" Laurel asked with a snort.

Fred smiled widely, "No reason..." Laurel stared at him with suspicion, but decided it to not be worth the effort.

"Hey!" George whispered harshly, leaning into the table and looking around at the others, Fred, Laurel and Cedric moved forward, the latter two with mistrust lighting their eyes. They were right to be mistrustful, as George promptly pulled a firework out of his pocket and showed them through loosely cupped palms.

"Oh, man..." Cedric said with a groan, paling slightly. He was likely not excited to be a part of anything disrupting Professor Sprout's class.

"I know, right!" George grinned at him excitedly, deciding that his groan was in excitement rather than trepidation, "I wonder what'll happen if I put it under one of the pods..."

Laurel gave him a deadpan stare, "It just might explode."

"That's the plan!" George was unfazed, he lifted up the bulging Puffapod and slid the firework under it. The pod settled around the firework with a wiggle, Fred helpfully whipped out his wand and pointed it at the fuse.

" _Aguamenti_ ," he whispered, shooting a gleeful look towards Professor Sprout who was lingering by the table next to theirs. A splatter of water erupted from the tip of his wand and dampened the firework's fuse, Laurel was confused for a moment until she remembered that Fred and George tended to prefer wet-start fireworks—Mrs Weasley had supplied them with a limited amount of fireworks after they promised not to play with fire again. Percy had never quite forgiven them for burning his eyebrows off when they had been experimenting with their father's stolen wand.

The fuse on the firework wiggled dramatically as the water crawled hastily upwards, until it disappeared under the edge of the Puffapod. Laurel and Cedric cringed and simultaneously pushed their chairs further away from the table in anticipation of the explosion. They were right to do so, as the firework promptly erupted in a brilliant flash of yellow and red sparks, the classroom exploded with squeals and screams as the Puffapod exploded on their desk.

Dozens of glowing, pink beans sprayed from the pod, the fragmented pieces of beans blooming into shredded, blush-pink petals the instant that they hit the ground, and whipping unlucky students in the face if they happened to be in the way. Laurel was assaulted with a dozen exploded beans in her hair and face, which had thankfully turned to the flowers promised by every Puffapod, though they were in many ruined pieces.

The greenhouse was a mess, in the middle of the wreckage stood Professor Sprout. As Professor Sprout looked around with wide eyes at the bed of shredded Puffapod flowers that covered the room, she seemed torn between anger and excitement—she had likely not seen a Puffapod opened with such frivolity.

"Who...did this?" Professor Sprout managed to squeak, her accusatory glare already turned to the sheepishly grinning Weasley twins.

"We did, Professor!" Fred and George chimed with pride, the offending firework was lying in the middle of their table, sitting in a puddle of slightly sparking water.

"How did I know that?" Professor Sprout said rhetorically, brushing her wild hair from her forehead with an exasperated sigh, "Well...all in good fun, I suppose. Your punishment will be to clean this mess up."

The twins groaned, deflating to rest their heads against the table with two regrettably loud bumps. Orange hair turned soggy brown as it came into contact with the water oozing from the fizzling firework, a couple of Puffapod petals drifted through the puddle to artistically lay themselves amongst the strands of hair on George's head as he and his twin rested in misery.

"That was insane," Cedric muttered, Laurel looked over to see that his eyes were infinitely wider than they had been before the explosion, his hair was dusted with flower fragments. Laurel nodded her head lightly in agreement, still not used to the madness and mayhem that was the Weasley twins.

The firework spluttered one last spark, and the pile of muddy Herbology books tipped as the table shook, the topmost book landed with a heavy thump in front of Laurel. She leaned forward with curiosity to see that the pages had fallen open to reveal a page of yellowed parchment, decorated with navy blue ink that crawled dramatically across the page in a maze of vines and twining twigs. _Devil's Snare_ , she read from the top of the page, and faltered at the coincidence. Another reminder of her plan to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone...Laurel just could not seem to get away from the self-realised, overarching reason for her being here, though she supposed that might be a good thing— _encouraging initiative_ , and all that.


End file.
